Responding to the lovely TreasueMe's writing challenge. Challenge accepted.
Here is the link to the original Blog: https://thecage.co/blog/userblog.php?blog_id=28722&postid=77389#anc
Laying in the grass I watch as leaves tumble to the ground around me. They are dancing in rhythm with the wind, staying airborne for as long as possible before finding a resting place. The trees dance in sync with their falling foliage creating an autumn dream worthy of a high fantasy. The air is crisp around me but my back is warm from the carpet of moss tracing along my outer edges. The is a spice to the air as the smells of the outside world mix with the leather from my boots. They are worn and tattered but have never let my toes down, providing warmth and comfort as the seasons change. They used to belong to my mother and just the thought of her fills my nose with the intoxicating scent of cinnamon. Her hands spent hours kneading dough leaving her perfectly and permanently smelling of cinnamon. Even when she would kiss my eyelids goodnight it would be the last thing I smelled before I drifted off. Now I lie here watching her spirit entangle with the wind and surround me with everything autumn dreams are made of.