Ican remember a time when autumn was simply amazing.

Cool breezes on amber days.

Fallen leaves in colors one could only imagine.

Yet, here they were … a mix of hues intertwined.

Yellows, oranges, reds and browns … each a masterpiece all its own, appearing as if strategically placed by the author, himself, who created them.

And every time the wind blew, you could somehow detect a faint glimpse of what heaven must smell like.

Hints of pumpkin, apple, cinnamon … collectively filling the air.

Autumn used to be a beautiful time.

At least in my mind.

But all things change.

You learn to look at life a little differently through every blink.

Autumn would bring with it a transition.

No longer were the days of abhorrent heat and oppresive humidity, as summer had been replaced with quiet,

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