We are having some blissfully cool weather here on the Nature Coast the last couple of days. Enough so that I decided to walk the dogs yesterday after work, which made them happy, but I was glad I did also. Glad because I had totally forgotten about the huge fallen leaves I always see this time of year when we pass this corner. And even though I didn’t anticipate it there it was, just waiting for me. The most perfect leaf on the ground, pretty color, just enough curl to it to crunch it underfoot in one stomp. And I did. Stomp it I mean. And as soon as I did it I realized that I should have taken a picture, because I knew I couldn’t resist talking about it. There is something soul satisfying to hear that crunch as you step on a leaf. It’s not something I’ve had much opportunity to do in my adult years, but when I do I turn back into a 7 year old walking up South Street in Brockton, MA, heading to Huntington Elementary. I used to take great pleasure in crunching every leaf in my path, and there was no shortage of them on South St. I’ve actually condensed the memory into thinking that I was crunching through the leaves on the first day of school, but that doesn’t seem likely as I think about it. Doesn’t matter. That sound does my heart good. I’m off today so the dogs will get another walk, or two, and I can’t wait to crunch a few more leaves.