the air was cool and clear, the season hankering for a change.
Each step tasted like the close of summer, that last of the growing for the
time being.
Out along
the wooded path, there is evidence of many creating their winter homes, setting
claim to their winter neighborhoods, storing foods or digging holes and
barrows.
Out in
the woods, there are so many creatures who spend all their days staying
invisible from this one species of humans. They are thickening their fur and
their underfeathers, filling up and fattening themselves in storage for long
cold snow packed days.
Out in
the woods the streams have dried, the leaves fall incessantly singing with their pattering across the
ravines. As the cold winds come, one after another, as we hear the news that
tonight will bear the killing frost. And all will begin the long sleep.
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