Every autumn, my world catches fire. The trees burn a million shades of red and gold; fall in Vermont brings me a sense of clarity. The air reaches a temperature of utter perfection, school has not yet weighed my back down beyond repair, and, on those beautiful days when I can taste winter coming on my tongue, but the sun is still shining bright in the sky, I feel as though I could stretch out my arms and fly. As I watch the geese begin their migrations, I question whether I, too, should leave this place of wonder.