I was drinking a beer and leaning on my fence. On the grill behind me were four sizzling Italian sausages, the wind whipping the smoke, but unable to push away the smell. The wind picked up and started to sway the boughs of my neighbor's Norway maple tree. The branches danced and the sound of the wind through the leaves was so incredibly intoxicating -- like rain.
For me, with the street light glowing beneath it, the tree captured the essence of autumn in New England.