I could sense it on the morning air. In the gentle gray before sun's first light, with my favorite blanket draped across my shoulders, I felt the change of season approach. The air has grown cooler. The blossoms have faded away. The perfume of my ruby roses is but a sweet memory. The butterflies which danced so gracefully have gone. One solitary dancer flits restlessly about, having sailed far from the petals of yesterday. The summer song drifts through its final strains alone... until there is quiet... stillness.