A thin spread of almost dried leaves line footpaths, roads; now that winter has set in. Green leaves of different shapes turning into shades of yellow, at times attaining a tint of brown. The crisp crackles of fallen leaves as one threads on them. A sense of chill accompanied by the wind.
And the tizzy into which they go when a faint breeze blows into them. Running around in sudden circles as if they've woken from a deep slumber. To die all at once. It's nice to see this. A tiny twister in action.