Leaves
falling down. Brown leaves, pale green leaves, purple leaves. The
wind picks up.

Lakes
start freezing. The waters grow cold. Ice is forming.

Rain
is transforming into snow flakes. A slow transition. The days grow
bleak.

Warmth
leaves the air, but the fireplace is warm.

Birds
migrate. Tourists leave. People leave.

All
there's left are a few people. A few people. Some animals. The cold.

But
it's still nice. There is fire. There is light.

However.

It
does get lonely.

The
moon is there, but only because it has to be there. Other wise, the
land would be dark.

Wolves
howl to it. They're not alone. They have other wolves to be with.

Even
if they shun the lone wolf. At least that lone wolf got to be with
others for a moment.

At times, there are dark nights. Clouds cover the moon. The wind
howls, because winter can get lonely.

Things
cower and hide. But they have warmth. It isn't quite the best place
to be, but it's something.

The
wind dies down. The moon is back. The wolf is thankful. Not because
it survived, but because the moon is back. Company to talk to, to
howl to.

Winter
has come, but it's not as bad as I thought.