Something in the air this morning said fall. I’m not sure what it was, a thinner atmosphere, a brisker breeze, the few leaves that have fallen making a collage on the driveway.

In springtime, change starts at the top of the trees and works its way down. I look up to see where things stand.

In autumn, it’s the reverse. I look down at the path, the pavement, to notice the acorns, whole and crunched, the scrim of leaf-meal that collects along the trail.

It’s kind of like “spring ahead, fall back,” only in directions instead of time. “Spring up, fall down.” Something like that.