An orange leaf fell on Clarisse’s head as she gazed up at the red maple. The red contrast of the fall blanketed the tree, every red leaf of the tree looked as ethereal. It felt warm and soothed to the troubled soul of Clarisse. Everything around her wore the colours of fall, welcoming the fall in New York City. The wind gently shook the branches and more orange and red leaves showered on Clarisse like rain. And the birds flew from the trees, singing in a choir of chirps to praise the approaching Autumn. The red maple leaves would very soon veil the city. For now, it was the shallow pools of water from the last night's storm which covered the streets.
How did Clarissa not notice the beauty of these phenomena after all these years of living here?
No one could ever neglect this spectacula
