120112C

Bare skeletal trees
The season is upon us
Nought but death and dark

082511

The days are waning
We're running out of August
Moving toward Fall

122110

The solstice arrives
Darkness envelopes the land
Half way to Summer

092909

Days first light comes late
In the cool crisp morning air
Autumn conquers all

121608

The days grow shorter.
Night slinks inexorably.
Solitude, darkness.