Purpose
The ground is softer and quieter than it had been during the summer months. The scent of pollen has given way to that of suspended decay; it is still too warm for the downfall to throw a blanket over the scene, but yet too cold for the remainders of last season's party to be recycled. There are some, though, who have found a way to feed themselves of the leftovers. I honour their strength and I envy them for their unbreakable will to live, despite their grim perspective.