Fallen Leaves

POV

You step into the heart of autumn, where the air carries a hushed weight and the ground is blanketed in shades of amber and rust. The faint spice of labdanum drifts upward like smoke from a fading bonfire, earthy and resinous, while leather wraps around it like a well-worn jacket, familiar and grounding. Each flicker recalls the quiet crunch of leaves underfoot, the stillness of twilight, and the bittersweet reminder that beauty always carries an ending.

This is autumn at its most soulful—deep, contemplative, and unshakably timeless.