Autumn in Eden

It might be the mood that I had that Wednesday which made me decide to gather a clump of leaves from the still-moist soccer field for my masterpiece. Or maybe, I just did it for the sake of getting my fingers to brush slightly over the cool ground, as I picked up the "worthy" twigs that are soon to be acquainted with my leaves before the English period is over.

I looked around. The girls were doing hearts on paper, and the guys were taping bottle cap-heads either on rocks or on the fallen thick branches—which, in my opinion, strongly resembled voodoo dolls instead of their desired action figures. I knew at that moment that I wanted my interpretation of the activity to be something uncommon—something near to original.

I looked around again, starting from the foot of the bleachers this time, and then up—skyward. I adored how the sun's rays filtered through the trees and bounced off its leaves, letting us see one of their different sides every time.

A leaf fell.

Autumn is coming to Eden.