The door creaks and closes behind me. I step outside and the frigidair almost takes my breath away. I wrap my jacket tighter and pull up the zipper.I walk down the cement steps to the frost covered grass through the rough barebushes, the sticks clawing at my legs. Turning the corner, I notice a smallrabbit camouflaged in the woods. It's busy eating what's left of the brown grass,its nose twitching constantly. It spots me and bounds noiselessly away.

Icontinue to the woods, and signs of autumn are all around. The leaves have begunto fall, and now are the most vibrant warm reds, oranges and browns. Soon thesetrees will be bare and filled with disappointment, so I cherish this colorfularray. I take a step and hear the satisfying crunch of dried leaves beneath myfeet.

The sun has not yet begun to set, but the autumn light threatens toleave. As I step into the woods, the smells of moist pine and sap fill mynostrils. I can hear the woods come to life with the sounds of squirrelschattering and birds singing. As I continue, I am enclosed in an undiscoveredworld of trees, moss and plants. The wind picks up, a breeze so cold that Ishudder. But it's not time to go inside, not yet. As it grows darker, all goesquiet, and I can picture the small animals taking their places of rest. Nature ishushed, put on hold until morning.

I suddenly realize that I am alone,and a feeling of uneasiness sets in. The friendly chatter of animals no longersurrounds me, and the trees have taken on different shapes, with shadowsdisfiguring them. The branches that were once welcoming and beautiful are nowthreatening and sinister. I begin the long walk home, and am met with the warmglow of my porch light. My breath is now visible against the cold of the night. Iwalk up the steps and feel comforted and safe. Autumn is here.