Flux (from LefTturn)

 It was a time of flux.  The autumn winds arrived through the Valley, some days bringing cold and rain, other days bringing warmth and humidity.  It would swing every few days to either seasonal extreme, indecisively it would seem, but each sweeping wind would strip the colour from the trees until finally there was naught but branches left. When this happened, the cold took over and remained, asserting itself for the reign of winter. It was as if the leaves were a fire and without them, the warmth died out.