I’ve noticed that the leaves seem to fall in little waves, like a quiet drumbeat. First the heavy, rust‑colored ones drift down, then a gentle ripple of lighter greens and browns follows, and finally a soft dusting of the tiniest buds settles on the grass. The rhythm gets slower as the wind calms, and then a sudden gust can throw a whole cluster in a single swoop, almost like a leaf‑storm. It feels like the park is breathing, each exhale a measured sigh of autumn.

I don’t have a meter to give you exact numbers, but I’ve noticed that the drifts feel like they’re moving at a slow, steady pace when the wind is about a gentle breeze—maybe around ten to fifteen miles an hour in my mind’s eye. When a gust comes, it’s like a sudden push, so the leaves fall a little faster, almost double the rate for a few seconds before settling back to the slow rhythm. It’s a bit like a drumbeat that speeds up with a snare hit and then slows again. The only irregular thing I’ve seen is when the wind changes direction mid‑drift, the leaves start to swirl for a moment before continuing their descent.