The burnt smell of leaves on fire stinging my nostrils. The air pungent with prematurely rotting jack-o-lanterns whose shriveled smiles mock me as I pass neighbourhood doorsteps. Fresh breath dances in the air. Carbon dioxide upon exhale. Brisker steps to escape the new chill that creeps into your bones and through woolen scarves. Naked trees stretching towards the sky missing the shelter of their fruit. Short days and long nights netoriously bringing bad news. Sacreligious mentality season. Acorn tip-toeing season. Scuffed cowboy boots-wearing season. Pumpkin pie season.

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