This year, the leaves turned and fell before the rains arrived. Bright warm days persisted well into the rainy season, ignorant of tradition. It made for an exciting show. Crisp leaves, in startling shades of orange and yellow floated gently through light blue skies for weeks, dropping into thick crunchy piles neatly arranged at the base of trees. Summer fossilized beneath our feet. Other plants, confused, continued to bloom and grow. Tomatoes stood in pots, still offering modest fruit and fat pumpkins could be lifted, clean, from their patches. With the trees bare-armed and flushed, what started as a late harvest turned into a reaping, a culling of life from ashes. And now the rains come to wash it all away.