No longer the pastel pinks of the spring morning, nor the vibrant greens of a summer day, the scene is decorated like an inferno, fiery shocking colors before the blank slate. Crimson foliage scatters across the smattering of hills. Round golden leaves of the slender graceful aspen flutter onto the browning grass. The flaming scarlet of the bald cypress blooms in the distance. The immortal green of the conifers' needle forms a prickly bed. Shaking their array of colours, the trees perform a vivid show.
Squirrels scramble to search for food and hide their hard earned prizes. Droopy-eyed mice scurry in their burrows for a 3 month long nap. Geese squawk above, in perfect formation, heading south to warmer lands. The sun sinks beneath the horizon ever earlier, leaving trickles of light to form an inky indigo sky.
Sharper winds hurries, inviting in Old Man Winter. Scents of the fresh chill air settles like a blanket, and the cold seeps in both clothes and skin. Chilly fingers rub against each other, in an attempt to feel a bit of warmth. Misty fog forms as people exhale, fleeting and barely noticeable.
Stuffed into coats and scarves, people hunt for warm drinks. Draining the warmth from bowls of steaming soup and mugs of comforting hot chocolate, the air smells of cinnamon and pumpkin. Seeking solace in buildings, people hide behind closed doors, under the protection of a warm blanket.
Like grizzlies, the cold air brings yawns to late risers. Early morning runners sigh at the weather and heads back inside. Still, children enjoy the crunch of leaves, leaping in piles their hair full of grass, their pants muddy at the knees and their eyes bright with a smile. Decorating their artwork with terracotta maple leaves and brittle stalks of now petal-less flowers.
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