Well, the winter season in approaching rapidly - which doesn't really mean too much in the south.  The pack out at Umstead has thinned lately as the weekend warriors have either completed their fall races or were felled by injury along the way.  The park grows quieter.  A few die hard cyclocross riders are out there in the fog and rain, and other runners of all walks and reasons are out there too, just not as many.  The cross country season is over and the high school kids are hibernating for track.  My footsteps, strangely heavy for a 128 pound person, are noticeable again.  The snakes are hiding, the deer are tired, the creeks are up.  My gear usually consists of a pair of over laundered running shorts, a grey KSU t-shirt and "magic" gloves.  My feet are housed by my Brooks Ghost 2 shoes, (I'd really like to get a hold of a pair of the Launch, if they truly exist)  and that's about it.   Backpacks full of water and iPods and other accoutrements still shuffle by, but mostly it's me and the dirt, and the trees, the leaves are still falling like crispy rain, that doesn't happen in Kansas.  But soon the forest will be a skeleton and I'll be out there every day making sure the trail is still there.