Looking at the forest floor in early October it’s hard to imagine that in the same place just a few months earlier spring beauties and trilliums enchanted. With the exception of the tapping of a distant woodpecker and the call of a much closer Carolina Wren, it’s quiet. The banter of spring birds is not heard. Initially asked if you were in the same place, you might answer yes and then after a moment’s reflection laugh at the thought. The woods cry out, “All is change, birth, life, then death, be in my moment”.