When I was seven, I went to stay with my Nana and Grandad for a week in the school holidays. As an avid encourager of young minds, my Nana got me to write a short story. It was about autumn leaves. It said something like: "The autumn leaves crunch under my stomping feet like cornflakes." Similes as a seven year old. Obviously a gifted child.
I was walking to dinner tonight and what would start crunching under my feet – like cornflakes? Autumn leaves. Wonderful, crisp, amber autumnal leaves.
Autumn Leaves is also the name of a hauntingly beautiful jazz song. It has found fame in many incarnations but my favourite is by Eva Cassidy. Listen to her singing it here.
Next time you're outside and you feel that crunch, think of a little boy in a woollen pom pom hat trying his hand at writing for the first time. Then jump up and down, and smile.
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