The hills and valleys turn to mystic colors. With such magic, it is a good time to be young and a good time to be old. These are precious days. But autumn comes with a fell promise, A promise of winter. Brown and gray replace red and gold as the days grow dim.
Winter can be such a hard mistress to love.
Sometimes she is fiercely beautiful, With her complexion so white and pure. But her mood is often dark and distant, And her soul is utterly cold. During the long nights, We hide under heavy blankets from her sharp tongue. During the dreary days, We wait for the sun to travel north once more. But, even with all her severity, winter does come with a promise, A promise of spring.