I grew up in Arizona, where fall is not so much a season as a lessening of summer. We had a few trees that lost their leaves, but I always used to dream of a place where there were endless piles of leaves, as brilliantly colored as they were in the story books, and endless kids like me to jump in them. They'd make the perfect leaf explosion -- FWOOSH! We were called the International Society of Leaf-Jumpers, of course.