Autumn arrives in so much orange, in a lifting of sky and settling low cloud. The ground gives up an astounding array of color and light, an incredible feast that bears traces of loss. We tromp out into the fields to gather the last big abundance before the rains. I love this season, love the feel of air and the slope of sun to the south, the streaks of geese on their way and the falling dark. The boundary between worlds thins, and though we cover it with costumes to hide our fear, there is a beauty in knowing that what dies isn’t gone.