Autumn was not ready to give up the stage.

She shook her fist and stomped her feet and dropped leaves onto the lawn freshly raked just a few days ago.

Determined to stake her claim and eek out just one more encore; take one more bow, curtsy at the end of one more day.

The sun merely laughed from her faraway perch somewhere near the Tropic of Capricorn, allowed Jupiter and Saturn to play, called the light in early, put Autumn to bed and allowed Winter to have her season.