It's that time again! It's been getting darker for more than a week now. There's no point keeping your leaves green. Without thinking about it you cork 'em up and break down the green chlorophyll into amino acids for precursors in the spring; reveal hidden xanthophylls and beta-carotene, and synthesize inside of yourself the the red anthocyanin. Never mind if you want to. It's getting dark.
Anthocyanins (red): Autumn
Chlorophyll (green): Spring Summer
Beta-carotene (orange): Spring Summer Autumn
Xanthophylls (yellow): Spring Summer Autumn
As your branches start to shed leaves your fruits split and stink, their thick outsides fading to a yellow-grey then overflowing with a lumpy green-but faintly reddening substance; once anguished faces grown indistinguishable from one another as they simply rot, exquisite terrified expressions sagging and dropping to litter the earth at your feet. The flies start to circle.
Gwodder approaches you slowly as the sun goes down, cloaked in green robes and sticking to the shadows, a heavy burlap sack over his shoulder. Knee deep in water he reaches your great pontoon sacs and clambers up through your tangled roots to the base of your trunk. He stuffs the sack into a familiar hollow and begins to climb higher. As he reaches the first of your branches, you let a vine snake down and pull him up into your growing redness. You twist.
Gwodder's body drops like so many others before it from the tops of your branches and lands with a pleasing thud among your roots. You pull him down and inside of you. A pleasant tingle. At the end of one of your still-vital branches, a fruit forms. The last of the season. Gwodder's smiling face, eyes wide open, and already starting to stink.