They are not like us at all, but there are similarities—enough, I think, to confuse any humans who encounter them. They have recognizable eyes, and so we know that they aren’t blind, that they must see in a way that we’d understand. Indeed, much of their behavior indicates such an ability; they are tool-using creatures; they create useless things that one can only describe, perhaps, as art or decoration, though I sometimes wonder if that latter term is accurate in any way. I’ve seen no indication that decoration in the human sense of the word is applicable to the ways in which they modify their personal environments. We’ve known of them for decades, and yet we know so little about them. They are built enough like humans: their heads (large) rest atop necks of moderate length. There is something vaguely insectoid in their facial bearing: their mouths open horizontally, like the mandibles of an ant, a beetle, a wasp. They possess two large eyes, forward facing, indicating binocular vision and superb depth-perception. They are, according to many who have studied them, the descendants of predatory creatures, though their current behavior indicates that they are more likely to claim near-predatory opportunists as their ancestors. They are omnivorous. It has been years since I have lived among them. I have grown to miss their strange silence and the garish coloration of their cities. As expected, I think of them in autumn months, when deciduous trees lose their green coloration and adopt garish shades of red and yellow. Fallen leaves remind me of the alien cities I have seen: shameless in the searing intensity of their colors. I am sure to visit them again. Sooner rather than later, but until then, I have colors to remind me of what they are, colors—I think—that hold as much mystery as the aliens they’ve come to represent. —Peter Renkov unpublished personal journals * * In its native context, this extreme close-up of a fallen, autumn-colored leaf, bears no relationship to unnamed, mysterious aliens, and yet, this leaf—perhaps like the aliens it has come to represent—has the ability to changed the context in which it exists. One can easily see the passage of time, the shift of seasons, and the fade of warmth in this image, and with only a little bit of stretching, one may also see a shift from one place to another. At least I did, and I’m quite curious about this Peter Renkov guy and the aliens he remembers encountering. As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting. I’ve been remiss in commenting (and viewing) as the past month has been extremely hectic; hopefully I’ll be able to catch up, slowly and surely, in the upcoming weeks.