There’s a scent, almost a taste to the air in Autumn. Crisp and cool, wafting through screen windows and doors left slightly ajar. It’s refreshing, in a sense, an odd feeling of urgent potential, as if something must be done very soon, before its opportunity passes. The truth is that this scent is largely derived from rotting leaves. It’s the scent of wasted chlorophyll, drying out on sidewalks and in gutters, unkempt lawns and neglected gardens.