The sky, drowning in a blanket of melancholy clouds, hung low over a vast sea of empty fields.
Black and Grey and Brown.
Cornstalks rising up from the frost-kissed earth like broken bones of once proud elves now scattered at peculiar angles across the countryside.
Muddy Golds, fading to bleached yellows.
Trees reach black jagged branches up towards the weak light of a year weary sun.
The world holds its breath, anticipation in the crisp air, weighing heavy upon the season.
The warmth of the flick and flutter of the jumping flames, the hearty laughter of kith and kin bringing color to the barren world of fall, drives away the constant hovering of death over hearth and home.
Kith and kin to spend the winter with, to greet the new year along side.
And somehow…it is enough.