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This autumn feels quite different from years past. Summer never grew hot enough to warrant air conditioning, and the hurricanes that usually strike the East Coast around this time passed quietly. Perhaps due to the lack of rain, the mushrooms that once sprang up joyfully throughout the forest are now hard to find. The leaves have fallen before they could fully change color, and today, the sound of dry leaves crumbling beneath my feet echoes more loudly than usual.

Yet even this sound seems to carry its own grace—another kind of beauty found in walking the autumn forest path.