The changed leaves covered the gorund and it looked like a mosaic. The individual leaves themselves were like small mosaics. It was hard for my eyes to take it all in. It was suppriging to see how much the back yard of the English had changed since I was there last. It is similar to a growing changing preson, but more repeative I guess. When the wind blew the leaves let go of their branches and sky dived to the ground (brave leaves), only to be crushed back into the earth under my feet -- eventually re-entering the tree in a different form. The sky was grey. The ai felt nice, and it smelled nice also. I was surprised at how upset I was when found that the ferns were brown and droopy and dead.