What do you Ear?

The Moonscape of Autumn above treeline. The large boulders like an amphitheater of grinding teeth. The rocks don't see us for we are too emphemeral, and the peaks never know we are there. The bristlecone, ugly and stunted, bent and broken is the only worthy witness, but mute unless the Wind play the bow. Usually this area is refered to as the Kingdom of Wind, so that the mute talks a lot. On the limbs and leaves that can abide past treeline... But today the Air is slow and easily warmed by the hollowing of elevation. This is the silence of the peaks...

But it can turn on you swift, slow you down to a crawl, from where you would accept death for the warm embrace that it is...