November is filled with so many memories. One of my fondest is raking up piles of oak leaves. My sister and I would have fun jumping in the leaves, while grandpa continued to rake under the birch, the crab apple, and the willows, then he would take them, one wheelbarrow load at a time, and roll them out to the burn barrels. I still love the smell of burning leaves during autumn. That aroma is much more rare where I live now, as my little town has grown so large. The fields have been replaced with houses and shopping centers, and there are restrictions on burning in city limits. I may have to toss a couple leaves on the barbecue, and see if the smell still evokes the same feelings.