Sitting in the hammock is no longer auspicious when it comes to relaxing. The slight bitter always brings me treading inside. The warm light no longer shines through the trees to warm the spot I am laying. A slight breeze does not bring pleasant feelings. Only longings for warm summer afternoons. The crickets grow loud sooner and sooner each day and quickly tire out as the sharp chill wisps them into hiding. As if trying to escape the sudden change in the weather, the Sun retreats into the mountains earlier than usual, leaving the frigid evening to take over. Winter settles in outside, as the people settle indoors, staring out the windows at the sleety blight called cold.
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