There is a chasm between the months.
Between color and no color.
Each person who roams the earth is forced to look inward for color, for beauty.
They bundle and huddle, sealing all of the color in themselves through the winter until those bright and varied spots returned to their world.
Some colors will protest the winter and be rebels in their own existence.
They will fight through bitter winds and chills until ripped from their hanging.
It is a great divide between fall and winter.
It is a great divide between color and no color.
It is a great divide between falling and hanging on.