My dear friend, you do not know Autumn? You have not seen leaves fall from the trees, float on water, in the sky, fly high, only to die?
Have you never felt the fear of winter run down your spine, the deception of time, the window to a world in decline. A photo that catches you off guard, a reflection of things you do not feel, nor see. While others do. See you.
The leaves dry up and wither, soon even the furiously red memory of life turn to grey, disintegrates, disappears. And the trees look worn and torn. Humbled and disgraced as they creep towards that final season.
My friend. You can live by the sea, under the sun, and study the sand that somehow never changes all you want. But lo and behold the tide feels more forceful than you can recall. Your body fails you, ails you as you fight the current and gasp: why is the water so cold?