Permanent Autumn

If I could live in permanent autumn, I would. I love the satisfying crunch of frosty grass, blades snapping under your feet. The air even feels cleaner in the fall, crisp and cold down my throat, in my nose. During the fall my senses seem heightened, like superhero powers - Autumn Girl! No, I refuse to have sidekick status - Autumn Woman! And my powers are... I can ward off all thought of adult responsibility merely by kicking through (and occasionally in desperate circumstances, jumping in) dead leaves, skulking through white morning fog, crunching over frozen, still-green grass. You can tell my powers have been activated when my cheeks and nose turn slightly pink and my breath comes out in misty white puffs of air. Then, boy, you better watch out. You are about to get a serious lesson in the shirking of duties in favor of childhood pastimes and long aimless walks. I excel at shirking duties - you might say it's my raison d'etre.