The nights are growing chillier and the trees have lost their leaves. I can see into the woods, the tall, slender, silver trunks of birch trees, the craggy, blackened bark of old apple trees, and the few stubborn oaks who hold onto their leaves til the bitter end. The feeling is sometimes unsettling to many. Perhaps its the nakedness of the trees, or the death of summer's beauty. All the energy of the trees and plants are descending into the darkness and into their roots.