Winter sparks mischief in me like no other season.. How dare it tease me to follow one last swirling oak leaf? "Ok,I will" So I pursue it to a frigid place I know all to well- My island of dolor; unchanged and unthawed. I figure if the changing seasons make me sad what about the end of an age or a new age to come - will it also render me mad? "No but I will remain a shell of a man." I clutch the last of my mementos tight to my aching chest, before my silver cord of life snaps and my golden bowl is broken. I will not let hurt, love or anyone in too close. I push them all back, barred at arm's length... But now all has changed on my island of Dolor, I found the oak leaf's kin embe dded in a slab of ice age glacier... "So I to will endure!"