I stepped outside as the bitter chill of the morning air pressed against my face, making me shiver slightly. I walked down the stairs and into the driveway. Crunch-crunch-crunch, went the pale brown leaves under my slipper-covered feet. I walked slowly, stopping every few feet to examine the ground beneath me. Acorns, pinecones, fallen leaves. I let out a contented sigh and continued on down the drive. I stopped at the and and looked across the street. A young tree, with bright red leaves. A warm glow against a dark house and bitter white sky. So tender and inviting, like a warm fire on a cold winter’s night. I just stand there thinking. A frigid breeze blows past my face, making a high pitched whistling sound. A sound so awkward, yet so welcoming. A voice as if to say, welcome to fall.