Fall
Driving along quiet back streets on a cool fall day. The trees have already shed themselves of their leafy burdens, leaving the town blanketed in yellows and browns and oranges. Only the places touched by human activity daily remain uncovered. The sidewalk looks more like a riverbank now. A slender pile of leaves stretches down the road where the dividing line used to be. Even the air is thick with leaves as you drive, kicked up by the tires of cars around you. It's like a friendly reminder from nature that while we think we own the land, we're only really borrowing the place.