So it's that time again. The time when skiers get anxious. The nights are crisp and speak of winter's grip soon to come while the days linger warm and sunny, failing to fully relinquish their dissipating handle on Indian summer. When I was younger I couldn't wait for winter. Fall was simply the time that occupied the space between mountain biking and ski season. The colors came and went but I failed to truly appreciate the splendor being shared. Now fall brings with it a calm and chance for reflection. A chance to review my summer and start dreaming of winter. The snow will eventually fall and autumn will be but a distant memory. I now try to capture the essence of autumn. I watch as colored leaves trickle through the cobalt blue sky and land with a randomness only nature could create. I look closely at the leaves to see if I can trace their metamorphisis from green leaves of summer to golden leaves of fall. I sit under a tree with a good book and a cup of Silver Joe's Kona blend and I try to take it all in. For this to me is no longer a season of transition but a wonderful season unto itself.