confetti river

The leaves on my street had fallen so quickly and thickly that they lined both sides of the road with full coats in shades of yellow and orange. A car would be moved from its spot and within hours, the empty space would fill with more of nature’s oversized confetti. Passing cars cleared the middle, marking a perfect stripe of pavement. It was more beautiful than the similar scene that snowplows make during a quiet night-time snowstorm, and I felt more than a twinge of sadness when I heard this morning’s once-monthly announcement blaring STREET CLEANING, NO PARKING ON THE ODD SIDE OF THE STREET; YOU WILL BE TAGGED AND TOWED.

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