As the golden leaves swirled around her, Annelie closed her eyes, listening to the hushed secrets carried by the autumn breeze. The crisp scent of the changing season filled the air, weaving memories of childhood adventures and quiet moments beneath the oak’s sprawling branches. She had always felt a quiet kinship with the fall—its fleeting beauty, its gentle farewell. A butterfly, speckled like the amber leaves, landed gently on her fingertip, its delicate wings fluttering in rhythm with the wind. She smiled, marveling at the fragile beauty resting in her hand. Autumn had a way of reminding her that change, though bittersweet, was always beautiful.