The Perfect Leaf

The little boy walked down the old trail where the maple trees grew, dropping their leaves in the swirling autumn breeze. He loved the sound his boots made as he stepped on the fallen leaves. He could smell the crisp fall air blowing around him and it gave him a sense of the coming winter.

He looked at a nearby tree to see a gray squirrel jump from a high branch to a lower one as it scampered down toward some nuts that had fallen just below the tree. He was probably gathering as many as he could to prepare for a long winter hibernation, the boy thought. He could hear the loud screech of a nearby Stellar Jay and he turned toward it in time to see a flash of blue through the autumn leaves.

His boot hit something on the ground. He looked around at the many sticks on the ground, no doubt blown down from the previous evening's rainstorm. He bent down to pick one up, and used it to poke at the soft ground before running over to a puddle and jumping in it.

The sky was growing gray. He turned around to see his parents a ways behind him. He looked around, he had wanted to find a big, bright colored leaf before heading home. He spotted a big, orange one below a tree just off the trail. He Ran over to it. Inspecting and turning it around in his fingers, he decided it was a good choice.

He put the stick down and ran back to his parents. The boy could feel little drops of rain coming down and hear rumbling in the distance. He decided fall was his favorite time of year as he and his parents headed back to their cozy home.