A Crisp Autumn Float

I hopped down from the park bench and stepped onto the crunchy gravel path. Right beside the stone border, a dry curled sycamore leaf lay rested upside down like a curved canoe. Holding my green plush apple securely tucked under one arm, I reached out to touch the crisp stem. It felt light and papery. With both plush hands, I nudged a tiny smooth grey river pebble onto the wide leaf vein to keep it anchored against the breeze. It rocked softly, perfectly steady and ready for a gentle drift.