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A sweet sadness cries out as each summer dies. This year fall came in grumbling, crying, and howling at all that would listen.

I couldn't really feel it though till today. Bright blue, beautiful Colorado skies above, yet a distinct chilly bite in the air after a few days of blustery storms. The windbreakers and long sleeves were out in abundance, shorts and bathing suits set aside for light weight long sleeves and jeans.

I look to the Grand Mesa and see a white glory adorning all about.

This was Color Sunday normally the best Sunday of the year for a "drive about" or perhaps you prefer the term "Sunday drive." If you ever seen an Evergreen forest combined with Aspens along with a grand variety of other flora as the summer's death and falls life begins you'll know the full meaning of "color" in this term. If not, well imagine hillsides filled with the varying colors of the spectrum in bright full array. Hilltops ablaze with golden Aspens, the finals gasps of life in wild raspberry bushes along the roads, as the Evergreens take on a healthy and robust overture of green in their domain. Flowers standing tall bravely awaiting the first heavy frost that will decimate them. Small animals scurrying about too busy too notice humans, unless they have neglected some food source. Most of the birds have all escaped to warmer climates by now, but there are the exceptional "camp robbers" , and if you are lucky a hawk or falcon out and about still to be seen. Deer on the other hand are set to be hunted, for this weekend it's still just the bow and maybe black powder hunters. Within 2 weeks every hill of repute will be covered with hunters of all shapes, sizes and skill levels. For this one Sunday though, most all of nature is being appreciated, celebrated for it's life and beauty, rather then being plundered.

People from all over the state, even elsewhere drive the Rockies in some form to pleasure in the glory of the "purple mountain majesties." This year was different in many ways. I'm certain there were the steadfast that took the long drives taking in all the sights, snapping breathtaking pictures. The difference this year is that the cold has already taken over it's stronghold, weeks early. Snow and bitter cold ruthlessly supplanting the more human friendly climate of norm.

Father Time and Mother Nature decided to break tradition this change of seasons, announcing boldly that there will be no Indian Summer this year. Summer's sweet warm embrace, quickly replaced by falls chilly death in prelude to winter's bitterness.

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