A Crisp Autumn Morning

I remember the changing of the seasons. The crisp autumn leaves underfoot as I quickly scuttled to school—not to get there faster, rather to use up my restless energy. The air was only turning damp, cold but not icy, just fresh. The crunch of every leaf was satisfying in the way only unseasonably dry weather can produce, as I scanned the paths for chestnuts and acorns with which to stuff my single…