As the greens have yellowed, oranged and reddened, the forest floor has become a crunchy maze of runs. The dampness beneath comes to the surface as three deer pass by me cautiously in close proximity. Their movements had been becoming predictable through constant observation and minimal tracking. Now, no creature can hide. It would seem however that after the first inklings of cold, the camaraderie which was prefaced in bonding has now moved into a mode of prepatory teamwork. Some work in the canopy amongst the falling leaves, physically jostling the futurefoods free. Acorns and other nuts are precariously scatter-hoarded. Chipmunk, grey and the red squirrels click and clack and keep their respectful distances, holding rambunctious stances and displays. Mouthfuls of bounty are buried shallowly, and the trailings of their capers glisten as wet bunches over a minefield of holes like that of giant earthworms after a good rain.

As the afternoon sun begins its set, the warmth dwindles with it, reminding the inhabitants of the purpose of their dutiful bustle. Densely packed drays and dens tempt the little ones, and they expend the remainder of their energies spiraling after one another until their roosts are claimed. They lie within the crux of branches as flat as their structures will allow and eject a vibratory trill that reverberates to the end of their bushy tails and throughout the forest. It is time to move on, to catch the doe in her return path, wet nose aware surely long before. It will still be a few weeks more of foraging and preparation. I step as quietly as I can and keep a positive head about my shoulders, scanning, listening, smitten. Such a sight of color and drama… Though the leaves fall, it is not for death, but for the sustainment of life. For beneath the crinkly blanket incubates the germinations of a hearty Spring, and the sustenance for those who seek to see it through.