One lone leaf seemed a little like it was trying to desperately get inside, clinging to the window one wet and windy night.
It reminded me of a conversation I saw on DFZ's website:
Al: The leaves are changing.
Al: Sons a' bitches.
"DFZ" or Bill takes care of an elderly gentleman. Who knew such concise wisdom can be found in such unlikely places?
God love 'em. Maybe even the trees feel the way Robert Frost felt when he penned:
"Ah, when to the heart of man was it ever less than a treason
to go with the drift of things
to yield with a grace to reason
and bow and accept at the end of a love or a season."