It is the burning decay that sets the color on fire in this season. The idea that beauty can be found even in endings is somewhat at odds with its normal definition. Yet as I stand still and smell the dank earth reclaiming what the summer took so long to grow, a calm stills over me. There is a schedule and a purpose to be met, an agenda that will override everything else. The loss of control is soothing as time slips through the cracks.