As the man let a solemn sigh escape his mouth, he stared into the vast yet melancholic landscape surrounding him, where time seemed to slow as he dozed in and out of his thoughts. Apart from the gentle rise and fall of his chest, he sat as still as a statue. The man’s head rested against his fisted hand, one arm planted on the cold, hard metal rail of the bench, and the other lying peacefully in the slight warmth of his lap. Although his legs were crossed in a slouched manner, he appeared stiff and serious, pondering deeply in his mind. The man was wearing a brown, heavy coat paired with dark trousers and semi-boots, while his white beanie and black scarf provided a shield against the chilly climate of autumntime. The bitter taste of the fall weather welcoming the vague winter frost contrasted with the refreshing and sweet scents that pranced around the field. The combination of the crisp, earthy fragrance of decaying leaves layered with faded aromas of tree bark and apple cinnamon entered the man’s nose each inhale. As a faint breeze blew sharp, icy kisses on his face, his gaze lingered around the decaying park. The park was coated with rotting brown leaves, curling up as if to hide away, and the once fresh green grass began to wither into a muted beige. A few naked birch trees stood in solitude around the park, preparing to enter a deep sleep during the winter. Gloomy clouds consumed the sun as groups of birds created V-shaped formations, heading south for migration. By now, the park was quite silent, where a few joggers passed by, and the sound of occasional dogs barking dwindled. Perhaps the man felt a sense of nostalgia, each leaf carrying the childhood memory of leaping into piles of lush red and rich orange leaves, the fragile yet crunchy sound beneath one’s feet that brings unexplainable satisfaction. After another somber breath, fog materializing around his mouth, he drifted back into his previous thoughts.