We are given so much; the full bounty of the season spreads before us as we walk. Tall, arching trees overhead are like some great cathedral. Sunlight dances through their leaves, as through windows of stained glass, scattering red and gold jewels across our path. They are laden with autumn's gifts too, which fall to the ground, crunching beneath our feet as we climb the hill. Soon the sun will be warm on our backs as it wheels across the empty sky.
Already, though, we can smell the decaying leaves on the forest floor, and the sharp wind is a constant reminder of what is to come. It is so bittersweet, this season, with it's warmth and fruitfulness overshadowed by the knowledge of it's own end. Soon, all this is will be nought, and we will mourn the dying of the light.
So come, walk with me and gather in the bounty.