Fly on the wall

In the backyard of my house today, the dogs watched as the shadows of the leaves came tumbling down to the ground. They barked at the friendly neighbors trying to sweep their own yard. The trees swayed back and forth as if moving to the beat of a song. A plane flew overhead, loud to some, but silent to my own ears. The birds had a conversation above, maybe talking about the great weather we've been having. The cold air tickled my feet as the wind blew between my toes. The swing moved in the wind, as if someone invisible had decided to ride it. The yellowish and blue striped ball sat in the middle of the concrete, dirty from the weather, parallel to the hoop. The leaves lay lifeless on the pavement, victims to nature, and the reason they will remain lifeless until swept into the bright green barrel. The faint sound of a bus in the background, stopping and going, puffing and screeching, one of the only signs that life was moving by as I sat in my backyard today.