The leaves have fallen from the trees, the sky is grey, like the ancient, monolithic glacial boulders. A soft, chill breeze blows from the lake and freezes my breath in the air. Summer is fading into winter, dying slowly like a grandmother with dementia. Mother Nature no longer remembers the joyous heat or the tender leaves of before, instead giving us the frigid winds of change. Like the seasons, everything changes, everything fades and dies. Like the green forest winnowed down to twigs by the cruel North Wind. And it is as grim as the storm clouds coalescing ex nihilo against the horizon.