For this posting, I'll let Stephen King (yes, that guy) do the talking because I could never say it as well even though my feelings are the same as his.
Excerpt from "Leaf-Peepers" by Stephen King
Romantics compare the cycle of the seasons to the cycle of human life, a comparison I have never really trusted. And yet now, at the age of fifty-one, I find something in it, after all. Sooner or later, life takes in its breath, pauses, and then tilts towards winter. I sense that tilt approaching. When the idea threatens to become oppressive, I think of the woods in New England tilting into winter-how you can see the whole expanse of the lake, not just the occasional wink through the trees, and hear every movement on the land that slopes down to the water. You can hear every living thing, no matter how cunning, before snow comes to muffle the world.
Photo location: Koh Chang, Trat province
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