|Fall leaves peaking in Oklahoma's Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge|
Under a most luminous gibbous moon tonight, we sat in the warm tropical air, the south wind teasing the changing leaves, and listened to the bitter sweet sounds of a number of nocturnal insects - still plucking their summer tunes, oblivious to how soon summer would be over. This was, indeed, to be their last song. A few hours later the wind turned as if in a tailspin, bared its winter fangs, and now howls through the canopy as the temperatures plunge below freezing.
|Cache Creek running through the Narrows|