It was the first week of October in Minnesota, and autumn was putting
on its spectacular annual show. The sun was clean and warm,
the air crisp, the sky an intense blue. It was breezy, so the crimson,
gold, chestnut, pumpkin, and cranberry leaves were cascading to the
ground in sheets. The scene was at once stunningly beautiful yet
ominously poignant. Things were slowly dying, and there was no
stopping it.