My Grandmother collected leaves in the fall.
As leaves gather in my backyard,
I think of her.
She could see the beauty in each leaf.
And because of her,
I can see it too.
"Is this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love -- that makes life and nature harmonise. The birds are consulting about their migrations, the trees are putting on the hectic or the pallid hues of decay, and begin to strew the ground, that one's very footsteps may not disturb the repose of earth and air, while they give us a scent that is a perfect anodyne to the restless spirit. Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns." --George Eliot.