Write a short passage about autumn in New England. Describe it in vivid detail that shows its danger. Keep the passage under 300 words.
Autumn lands with a lot of fanfare in New England. Trees burst into red and gold, leaves giving up the emerald of summer, quivering against sudden bursts of icy air. The wind is full of authority, directing every corner of the forest that presses covetously against the flimsy links of chain or strips of weathered pine protecting backyards. The fences will win for a moment, as trunks are laid bare, limbs pausing as they turn their energy inward, mimicking slumber to prepare for winter. 

Chipmunks are ghostly shadows of stripe and fur, racing with purpose, to and fro, back and forth, up and down, cheeks filled with mysterious things, as if they are travelers making one last check before disappearing into vacation homes to wait out the gray days and the creeping, heaving frost so powerful that it sometimes buckles country roads.

Autumn practices sleight of hand, offering up the warmest artist’s palette of fiery color tones, designed to distract, soothe, and hypnotize the living. Tourists crowd along the twisted lanes, gripping cameras and smartphones, paying witness to the cacophony of the season change through tempered squares of glass. Soon, they will retreat back into shored-up cities, behind heavy walls, and technology that forgets it is no match for Winter until the electric grids sputter and fail, silenced by the Northeastern winds.