An overview of the song---Autumns are for Orchards and Dying

Late afternoon creates the wonderfully prismatic lightscape in this old house's living room. It was still warm enough to leave the heavy oak doors open to the swooning, almost sleeping autumn breezes. The orchards on the side of the western hill were exploding in apples and the children are keeping themselves busy in fantasy play. I could watch you gently rocking in your chair for hours. The sun fragments into a million tiny mirrors and ever so slowly travels down your body. You look so incredibly comfortable. A light fleece throw barely covers your bare legs and soft, magical feet. I am doing nothing but spending this fleeting inifinitum of time alternating daydreams with you in treasured silence. We speak no words but I curl up occasionally on the floor to caress the receding sun. You look so happy. You must know then--but how can you? Are you blissfully accepting our fate? Why aren't you gathering the children for a cinematic, tearful goodbye? God, I love every inch of you. This last daydream concerned the third night we (or more accurately, you) decided to show some bravado and spend a stolen weekend staring at similarily autumn day in the face. There is no audible language except the enveloping serenity and warmth of a familiar yet fearful mutual love. At least I remember no specific words but can recall every fingertip trace of your skin. Let's go outside and run with the children...why don't we just grab four bottles of wine and drink this night into forever...why don't... You sweetly shake your head a pointed 'no'. Then what? Do you realize this will be the last night on Earth we ever spend? She slowly curls her smile into an acknowledgement. At that precise moment the faintest rumbling comes tumbling up the valley to the north and we realize that this unstoppable countdown has begun.