The reign of summer has called off its nights in sweet saphire, and the falling of autumn aproaches on crisp winds. I go out of my way to step on the crunchy looking leaf as the vast marine sky speads above my head. The dancing petals of oaks let down their guard, unaware of my soft tred below. Scents of jasmine fade to rich tones of moss and damp earth, the spice of wild sweet things offering their bounty surround the clear air. My breath comes on a cloud, whispered through a soft wind. This is the death of the earth, the shroud of the sleeping lady come to rest. The soft folds of her evening gown drawn up tight around her bodice. She clutches at the last memories of all that is green and warm, but cannot hold tight to the fluttering images. The golds and rubies twist together in a mezmorizing scene of release. An erotic fantasy come to rest on the satin earthly embrace.