Before I landed on a cold, rainy night in New York City last September, my mind was filled with images of the crowded flashy streets of Times Square, the Statue of Liberty raising its torch to welcome scores of tourists, and well, Hollywood-inspired conversations. Those pre-conceived notions surprisingly turned out to be true, but away from bustling midtown and “touristy” New York sights, I found a world I loved so much that I came back for seconds – the world of fall colors! On the upper west side of Manhattan, I found my haunt near Riverside park. At first, it was just somewhere to get away, hear birds chirping in the trees, admire old church spires reaching out to the sky. Somewhere to glimpse a fiery red sunset above the Hudson River and wave to the night lights of New Jersey across. Then came fall, almost like a slow death, only more beautiful than any of my notions of dying. When we humans wither towards the end of our time on earth, we become bleak and sad. But not nature. At …