When you look at beautiful autumn colors you are looking at stress, but the bigger the fight the trees put up the more energy they put into their defenses at the very end the more brilliant their colors will be.
A glance over the shoulder a whisper in the mist, an echo through the trees. Spirit travelers, shamans and tricksters. As surely as his paddle slices the surface, he knows he is not alone. Poem by Wintercove Paddler in the early morning mist.