It seems sometimes that winter is the season when death is most around us. Lake Effect essayist George Berdes notices that notion:
There is something at once depressing and compelling about the approaching death that we know as winter.
Leaves ‑‑ green and trembling with the excitement of life such a short time ago, now lay prostate…brown and decaying. Wildlife has retreated to darkened caves…tombs really. The day’s light is sullen, short.