Here's what I found.
How quickly things change, within the span of a few weeks, even. The fallen leaves I so loved crunching through have given way to a thin sheet of ice over the grass. How do I know this? Well, it certainly wasn't by stomping through the grass and taking childlike pleasure in the satisfying crackles beneath my sneakered feet as I wrought havoc on the lawn's ice blanket, godzilla-style. Nope. Not at all. And for the record, I would never stomp in a puddle or kick up a pile of leaves. I'm too dignified.
* Subject line courtesy of this song, "Cold" by Breaking Benjamin, or as my friend and I call them, Baking Brenjamin.
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