Past the last rains of monsoon, Past the August sheaves, Past the full corn moon, and into the autumn leaves. Oh, to hear the mellow crunch underneath the feet during the evening walks across the street. To feel the soft crisp in the breeze, blowing the red and gold from the trees. Ah, to smell the petrichor, a scent so hypnotizing that I cannot stop myself from romanticizing. To wander into the wilderness and dance with Autumn's embers, through September, October and November. And, all in all, to fall in love with fall.

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