It started one by one.  Now... ten by ten.  And soon, a hundred per gust.  A common sight that still holds much amazement.  The aroma conjures up an overwhelming sense of nostalgia.  Each crackling step through the leaves is like a glimpse into the past.  It's ironic how beautiful it is... when they're dying.  But their death does not go unnoticed.  The spectrum shifts as day fades, and the cold howl of the wind chills you to the core...  From Beauty to Banshee...