Aspen, Granite III -- the last?

Another hike in the mountains east of town.  Fall is a beautiful time with its low light and stillness, but it constantly reminds that change is imminent, that this will soon be gone.  The weatherman says the same  -- by Thursday we will have had temperatures in the single digits (F).

Somewhere above the rocks

the wind whistled softly but

nothing moved.

Birds are gone,

trees are empty,

dead leaves cover the ground.

Winding through the rocks and trees

another winter makes its way.

We try not to be bothered,

we ignore its approach, but

something feels ominous,

perhaps death?

 Not everyone is bothered ... carefree Sparky wriggles happily in the dead leaves.