By Katherine Gotthardt It's long overdue, this reflecting, turning the outside in, examining what everything means. Take a moment with a magnifier, see the season's leaves in a different light: not green, not olive, but emerald, brash in the heat of high noon. Had you not stopped, you might have missed it, their absolute insistence on survival. Had you not stopped, they might have missed it, your once-in-a-lifetime complete attention. It is these seconds that matter, these halts in the day's eagerness to end too quickly. You know what it's saying innately. You see how the flies of time flash their wings in the sun, fine displays of speed and uncaring. Watch out now. One's buzzing around your hairline.