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Juan walked down the street with a skip in his step, drinking in the newly crisp air, stepping on the first of the fallen leaves of the season – they would crunch so much more satisfactorily in just a few weeks – and he couldn’t help whistling cheerfully thinking about how he liked the almost tangible smell of change that was the essence of both spring and fall.
October 10, 2006 at 5:15 PM ::
yes.
carrot on 10/10/06 at 06:27 PM ::
I’m sure the poets in Australia are bitter that we don’t call Autumn ‘Fall’. It conjurs up such immediate imagery. At least, in the hands of a good wordsmith it does.
boot on 10/11/06 at 10:27 PM ::