As I bunkered down in my cozy bed last Saturday morning, I heard some rustling and banging noises outside. When I finally roused myself and opened the door to step outside, I stopped and gasped. They were gone. It was gone. Someone had come and swept away my golden blanket of leaves. I looked up at the beautiful maple tree overhanging my yard and saw that it only had a few more leaves to contribute, certainly not enough to cover my yard and path again. I paused for a moment of silence to recognize the passing of fall. I hadn't realized how attached I gotten to the moments of getting home from school late at night, coming through the gate and crunching on the golden trail so thick I couldn't see the sidewalk path anymore with nothing but the stillness and the moonlight. I wish they could've stayed, even if they'll be buried by snow in a few weeks.
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