The autumn leaves crunch under my feet as I make my way past the front gate of the park. Off in the distance I see an oak tree. Crunch crunch.

What is it about dry leaves that make me feel so satisifed the moment I step on them? Crunch.

I wrap my scarf around my neck tighter, this late fall breeze carries a hint of winter. If you didn't have you face fully exposed to it, you almost couldn't feel it. But even so, if you take a deep gulp of air in, you can feel part of your lips becoming dry as the air loses it's humidity transitioning into the cold.

It's that time of day you can look directly into the sun because it's setting. It doesn't shine as brightly, but it's still full of color and light and beautiful. I enjoy this time of day. To my right, the playground is empty. Shouldn't there be some kids out here, playing after school? A swing is set in motion by the late autumn wind. The oak tree is closer to me now, and I can see the etchings on the bark.

The wind comes by again, stronger this time, and I feel the cold right through my scarf. I imagine the dry grass around me that will be full of dandelions and greenery, come next year. It's funny how when it's fall, you want spring. But when it's spring, you can't wait for fall. It's like we are programmed as humans to want the thing we don't have at the moment.

But right now the thing I want most is here, now. To walk around this abandoned park with a fresh set of dry leaves for my boots to step on.
Crunch.