The colors of the late October leaves are muted against the smudged, gray sky. The air is moist, and the wind blows cold as I make my way across the front yard, on my way to the barn, where Jazz anxiously awaits her breakfast. I look up to see geese moving across the sky in formation, their honks reminding me of their arrival. I glance across the field to where our back fence posts share the property line with our neighbors. The fields are now brown, combine machines having worked diligently to harvest in the two weeks previous. The wind causes the stubble that remains, to rustle in the chilly air. This is Autumn in Ohio.