As summer waned, the vibrant green of the meadow surrendered to a tapestry of rust, gold, and burnt orange. Autumn had arrived, cloaking the world in a gentle chill that whispered of change.

For Clara, this season held a bittersweet significance—an end and a beginning intertwined.

Each year, Clara looked forward to her favourite time of year, where the air grew crisp, and the sunsets painted the sky with hues that mirrored the leaves. This autumn felt different, though; it marked the end of her childhood. She stood at the edge of her family’s property, watching as the last of the summer flowers wilted, surrendering their brilliance to the looming frost.

Today was special; it was the day of the annual Harvest Festival. Clara’s family had hosted it for generations, a celebration of bounty, community, and the memories woven into every corner of their home. But this year, it felt like a farewell rather than a celebration. The festival was an anchor in her life, a final event before she left for college, stepping into the unknown.


As Clara helped her mother prepare, she caught glimpses of her younger siblings laughing, their cheeks flushed from the brisk air. They raced through the fallen leaves, their joy a stark contrast to the weight in her heart. Clara remembered when she used to join them, her laughter mingling with theirs, creating a symphony of innocence and wonder. Now, her laughter felt like an echo, fading away with each passing moment.

“Clara! Come help with the cider!” her mother called, breaking her reverie.

In the kitchen, the sweet aroma of apples filled the air. Clara rolled up her sleeves, embracing the familiar warmth of home. The clattering of pots and the murmurs of family enveloped her like a warm blanket. Her mother handed her a knife, and Clara set to work, peeling apples with careful precision. Each slice reminded her of the stories they had shared during the festival in years past.

As dusk began to settle, Clara stepped outside for a moment of solitude. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the meadow. She noticed a single leaf, clinging tenaciously to the branch of an old oak tree. It shimmered like a jewel against the fading light, the last remnant of summer’s green. Clara reached out, her fingers brushing against the cool bark.

“Let go,” she whispered, a sudden understanding washing over her.

Just like that leaf, she had to let go of her childhood, of the familiar, in order to embrace the unknown ahead. The thought filled her with both fear and excitement. What lay beyond the horizon? What adventures awaited her in this new chapter of life?

A gust of wind rustled through the trees, and the leaf finally released its grip, dancing gracefully to the ground. Clara watched as it fluttered, spinning and twirling in the air before landing softly among the other fallen leaves. In that moment, she felt a shift within her—a sense of liberation.