We detect a bit of sadness in her face as she looks at us. Possibly she mourns as we do at the loss of summer. We feel the coolness of the autumn breezes as we gaze into her eyes. She holds a dry leaf in her hand, a brief and dim reminder of the cycles of the earth; how all things must eventually die. Yet the earth itself moves on, season after season it continues, paying little attention to the course of human events.