I went for a walk today.

I have always loved this time of year. Southern California so rarely gets chilly and I am genuinely excited to step outside to discover that a jacket is necessary. It’s the simple things, I suppose.

We were graced with rain for the last couple of days and you could smell the petrichor in the air. The streets still retained some of the sheen from the rain and the skies were full of towering storm clouds. Not at all pleasant to some, but conditions could not be more ideal for a walk to me.

There is a small bench not far from my house. Made of that pressure treated brown wood, you know? Though it was still soaking with rain I sat down and let my eyes take in the soggy scene.

I was on the bench for not more than a few moments when a sudden cool breeze greeted my face. As I pulled my jacket tighter my eyes were drawn to an oak tree that stood across the street. The frigid wind had swept through its branches and took some of the old, dried out leaves with it. My eyes were glued to the tree as I watched them fall slowly, as if time itself had been reduced to a crawl.

Something about the lazy spirallings of these leaves as they waltzed delicately to the ground reminded me of her. Her hair would dance in much the same way; a graceful pirouette of rich espresso just above her collarbone. Like silk to the touch, I could almost feel the velvety strands of her in my hands.

But that was a long time ago.

And much like these fallen leaves my heart had lost its feeling long ago.

I went for a walk today.


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