So this is how it starts...An early November night, cold rain and a chill in the air.  The leaves have turned, almost painfully slow, from green to shades of yellow, gold, red, and purple in preparation for the browning of the landscape.   It's this change from life to dormancy that marks a strong contrast from the spring and summer, when nature seems pure and new, playful and lively.

I feel lucky to see the seasons.  There are so many in various parts of this world that never get the chance to see them, to understand them, to live through them.  There are people that don't know the stillness fo a snowfall, the breathlessness of a windchill, or the short daylight hours of a winter's day.  No matter how one tries to explain it, they will never understand.  They will never be of the knowing.

It is chilly nights like these, when the darkness stays long and the drizzle falls steadily, that contemplation arises.  The long nights give us reason to question ourselves, and our focus, and to think about the future and the past.  We examine our weaknesses, our strengths and our very reason for being.  We listen to old music and try to find some comfort in the familiar words...which we can only recall as the song is playing.  We remember old parties, times we spent with friends and family.  We seek comfort in our memories.

In a few short weeks, real winter will be here...and after that Spring and Summer will follow.  But until that time has passed, we need to be happy to have the experience to be cold, to be wet, to experience the snow.  Life is too short and we are too fortunate to be alive.