If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

Thoughts are falling leaves in the autumn wind. Capture the right moment and you'll see a swirl of colors preserved in a snapshot. Something grand and magnificent, the natural beauty of a strange world. But, and there is always a but, just watch as the seasons fade as the crisp autumn fades into cold winter and watch as the color fades, as the leaves shift from bright orange and dazzling red to putrid brown. I fear that this is what I am, a tree slowly shedding each thought. No leaf is preserved, no beauty remembered. Instead, there is a moment as I watch the leaf drift down in the shining light, alone and forgotten. I am the only one who sees it, by my own carelessness I have condemned myself to be the tree which falls alone in the middle of the forest.