The sun shined bright overhead, making the leaves dawn a fiery orange/yellow color. There were rows of trees in the park, illuminating their golden hue. The leaves shed off quietly and gracefully, parachuting down to the ground. The coyote took its time watching this view as it walked slowly on the gravel stone path. An autumn breeze blew by, bristling its golden-brown fur. The trees murmurred and whispered along with the wind. The coyote heard some flapping noises and looked up. Three crows had perched on one of the trees, staring at the coyote. Their black beady eyes were unwavering, even when the wind blew past them. The coyote glanced back at them before yawning and moving on. The leaves continued to rain down, and the coyotes bushy tail gently swept them away.