The wind was biting cold, and the ground was hard with frost. Most of the snow from last night had melted away but some traces still lurked in the shady corners, an off-white sign of the coming winter. Only the occasional solitary leaf remained on the trees, dull and brown and lonely on otherwise bare branches. In the cemetery below, a grave stood open to the air. Around it a sombre little group had gathered. The priest stood dressed in his customary uniform, reading passages from his bible as the coffin was lowered. Holding one end of the rope was the departed man’s son, looking a tad uncomfortable dressed up in his Sunday finest. The other end was held by the gravedigger; a scruffy-looking fellow dressed in what might once have been respectable black, but was now more of a drab grey. Besides them, only a handful of old men had gathered to remember the departed. On a hill overlooking the cemetery, a strange man stood and watched the quiet ceremony, his hat off and his head lowered in respect. He watched as the gathered mourners said their last farewells, and he watched as the gravedigger filled the grave in and the rest of them left to go warm up. Finally, as the gravedigger finished his work and scuttled off, he approached the grave himself. With the sun already creeping down towards the horizon, he looked down upon the recently carved headstone. “Goodbye, old man. I hope you’re with your Ellie now.” A lone oak leaf finally parted ways with its now completely bare tree and fluttered down to land upon the fresh grave. With great care, the strange man picked it up and threaded its stem through the rough weave of his coat, one more memory among hundreds. With a final nod to his late friend, he walked off into the woods.