To the Sound of the Breezes that Blow

At the ebbing of the year, the sounds of the forests are muted. The sun, in its southern trajectory, casts long shadows through the trees as the last of the leaves cling to the trees that bore them. For a lone red-tailed hawk, the gentle air of Fall will soon give way to blustering winds and a scarcity of resources. We can imagine the creatures taking stock of these rare moments of beauty before the paucity of the impending winter.