When I was walking down to my site, I tried to turn into the trail that walks through the woods, when I was approached by a large golden retriever who seemed more than excited about the changing seasons, just as I am. Because most migration has already taken place, the woods were almost silent as I walked through, with only the sounds of the lake water lapping up against the shoreline, and the sounds of the leafless trees swaying in the wind. I noticed that the ground was stacked with fallen leaves of all colors- a change since I had last walked through. It wasn’t until I heard the sound of a squirrel sitting on a branch, that I remembered not all life had left these woods behind. In just two short weeks, the busy, colorful woods by the waterfront where my site lies is now quiet, but for the few leaves still slowly falling, and the distant sounds of a squirrel scurrying about. It made me think about the silence that winter brings and the length at for which that silence lasts.