The Central Park Leaf Thief*

Even though it's not particularly unique or revolutionary to say so, I'm not going to hide the fact that fall is my favorite season. Jackets, scarves, falling leaves, pumpkin-flavored things, Halloween, cornstalks, the colors — I love it all.

On Monday, after work, I decided to walk home through the park, looking for early hints of fall. I work on 42nd, and live on 105th, so it's quite a haul but I took it slow. I hadn't been in Central Park for a few weeks and it's still a bit early, but there are definitely hints of the impending change if you look hard enough. I took my usual path from Wollman Rink, to the Literary Walk, through Bethesda Terrace and into the Ramble.

Somewhere along the way I found an amazingly bright-red leaf, and picked it up with the intent of pressing it. I've never really collected leaves before, but this one was so pretty and ahead of its time that I couldn't resist. As I was admiring it, I realized that it was basically the real-life equivalent of one of the leaf emoji characters I frequently use in my fall-themed Instagram and Twitter posts. Then, because I'm totally nerdy and self-entertaining, I started searching for other emoji dopplegangers, and recreated two more.

Shortly after posting the photos, I was sitting completely alone on a rock, marinating in my own cleverness. Suddenly, a three-year-old girl appeared from around the corner, spotted the carefully curated pile of choice leaves sitting beside me, yelled LEAVES! LEAVES!, grabbed my pile (that I was very nearly sitting on) and ran away. Her dad followed shortly after, not caring that his tiny monster had just robbed me of my very first, lovingly gathered leaf collection.

It all happened so fast, and I had no possible recourse. I certainly didn't want to be the horrible hag that yells at a child for stealing her pile of leaves. I didn't wonder why she wanted them — they were the best leaves in the park that day — but she no doubt lost interest, as children often do, and probably dropped them soon after. Yes, there will be other leaves, of course, and probably better leaves too. But I won't ever forget my first-ever leaf collection, however brief it was in my hands. And I certainly won't soon forget the time I was mugged by a blonde-haired, blue-eyed toddler in the middle of Central Park.

*The amazing title of "Leaf Thief" comes courtesy my brilliant friend Shannon.