The air’s frigidity is startling as it enters my lungs. It’s wash of cold bites through my chest. My cheeks and nose feel it’s instant sting. But oh, that sunlight. It filters down through the autumn leaves, whispering reassurances of its presence. It’s warmth is a brief, welcomed respite from the air. It brings a smile to my lips and an animation to my step.

I feel the change of seasons everywhere here. In the golden light that washes the land, oblivious to the time of day. It seems to be longing for summer, clutching blindly at her skirts as she slips away. A deep sigh, a skittering leaf. She’ll be back. She always comes back around. It’s like she almost enjoys leaving you yearning for her. Aching for the warmth of her breath on your face and the comfort of her light. Patience, my dear. She is slipping… slipping… and she’s gone. And the air is cold and the wind numbs your cheeks. Hold fast to those memories. She’ll be reborn again in the Spring, all you have to do is wait with empty hands, open eyes and a yearning spirit. Patience, my dear.