Pupils and teachers have returned to their desks, the grape harvesters have honed their shears, and from the back of the wardrobe you’ve brought out that faithful woolen sweater. There can be no mistake: summer is slipping away.
Along the hedgerows and deep within the forests, as the stag’s bellow resounds through the dusk, all is in motion. Creatures stir and bustle, making ready before the long stillness of winter sets in.
Some will flee on swift wings toward distant lands untouched by snow or frost. Others remain behind, feasting while the earth is still generous, then retreating to snug hideaways where life will slow to a gentle hush until spring’s return. And then there are the hoarders, tucking away caches of seeds and berries against the hard days ahead. Yet who can say if they will remember their hidden treasures when the biting wind comes calling?