As I sit in my easy chair sipping a tall glass of Captain Morgan Rum and white cranberry juice I notice that the winds outside my patio door are doing two things: (1) blowing a majority of the leaves about the yard frantically and (2) carefully allowing other leaves to seek shelter near my doorway. You begin to wonder if there is a selective process happening here  (a pecking order if you will) in which the chosen few will escape the ravages and taunts of a hostile winter while the rest will fend for themselves in an uncaring world. Life at times does imitate art. -gc