Our summer is waning now as the year grows older and what was once green is now fading. The autumn has its golds, reds, and oranges, giving it a sense of something still possible, even though the days themselves fade into grey. The night spreads, growing stronger, longer. Our mornings are lost in mists and the narrowing of all our horizons. We can no longer see as far as we once did and our days are no longer long enough.
Each night brings with it the harsh promise of the cold winter. Each day brings a wind, which blows down from the cold mountains around us.
Once, we had a spring where our days could only grow longer, brighter and warmer. Then we had a summer we thought would last forever. Now, though, looking back it seems our summer was never that long and all it promised now fades into memory and dies.
All we have left to us, before our final winter, are these few brief golden days of our autumn. We cling to them knowing we will not see another one. Our winter is coming and we have almost spent all our year. Our future fades into less than a season of cold and dark. All we have is what we look back upon and regret for what we will lose when that final winter storm closes all our days down forever.