Song of Autumn might best be described as a work of art rather than a piece of prose. It might be considered a simple poem, or an epic novel, or both simultaneously. It is yoga on paper; it strives not to stimulate you or to create tension, but rather to relax you; it can be read as a meditation. And what does it tell? It tells of the passing of a season; in these pages time passes not against the uniform ticking of a clock, but as we experience it, speeding up and slowing down, breathing in and breathing out, expanding and contracting, and all the while moving forward into the inescapable...