Death has come upon our summer days. Slain are the days of warm mornings and nights of a cool breeze. We are now upon the lips of fall, slowly consumed till we are in the bitter embrace of winter.
The once open skies are now the victims of the dreary. The frigid gasp of October and the sinking eyes of November. We are now unkindly taken by darkness before our eyes open. The grey skies glaze our souls in the dim.
Our hearts become heavy as the drizzle of sorrowed clouds weep upon our streets. Our steps become cautious as we keep weary to pools of rain. Quickly can our days become uncomfortable as the steady weeping of the sky gives no hope of silence.
But in these bleak and colorless months, there is much between the grey; the cold and frozen. There are colors that only fall can birth. Oranges that cripple a leaf but bring sight to a dying season. There are moments so close to those we love, that summer cringes in jealousy.
We find ourselves wrapped in …