Autumn in the Woods

Seneca Creek Park, Maryland

Even when the wind was too light to be felt, the rustling never stopped above, the trees making music. Then there was the crunching of dried leaves and pine cones under foot. No birds though, probably all gone to warmer places. On the lake shore, tiny waves broke on the boat house's wooden launch pad, the ripples quieter than a whisper. The boating season was over and all the rental boats had been stowed away, the kiosk shut and empty. On the playground children were jumping up and down recycled old tires and laughing and screaming on swings.

The air was filled with the fragrance of broken leaves and pine needles and dimming sunlight, and the shimmering afternoon lake.