By Chris Wharton
Date: 18 June 2000
Autumn
As I walk, I wonder at the satisfaction in the crunch of a dry leaf under one's foot. Even now, years separated from childhood, I still deviate from my path and alter my stride to obliviate the next fallen victim. The sound, the feel, and perhaps even the memories evoked of when, as a child, I walked zig-zag down the sidewalk to hit every leaf before me; they all are part of my motive.
These flashes of childhood occupy me as I walk half a mile without notice. Autumn provides that sort of nostalgia. As a compromise between the excitement of Summer and the dormancy of Winter, it's comfortably crisp coolness and variegated colors offer solace and temporary peace to a life of "on the move." The stillness and quiet as the wilderness begins to hibernate offer long moments of unhindered reflection, a reprieve from the baseline anxiety of repetitious work and play.
I now find myself subtely seduced by Autumn's setting...a quiet breeze gently churning about me as my thoughts gently churn inside me. I shudder just a bit, and I cannot distinguish its cause: am I cold, or am I just remembering? Another leaf tempts me, and I move slightly to the right to catch it on my next footfall. Crunch. Another change in direction, another leaf broken apart.
The sun is beginning to set. It's getting cooler now and I can see the shortest wisps of my breath. As quickly as the moisture hits the air, it dissipates. Closer to the horizon, the sun's rays journey longer to reach their destination, and they give their recipients a golden glow, as if the light itself is aged and in its own golden years.
I've crunched many leaves on this walk and left them all behind. My path has become longer and longer with each change of direction and return to the course. But I'm no longer sure whether my course now is the original path, or whether it has become the leaf-to-leaf zig-zag I have followed more consistently. Either way, I inevitably move forward. But it is the leaves and their satisfying crunch that I remember.
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