It was slightly chilly this morning, as autumn was apparently approaching, though it was not yet cold enough for frost. The crisp air invigorated her as it rushed through her nose and lungs, heavy with the scent of dampness and growing things. The dew-laden grass brushed against her legs as she ran, leaving her soaking wet halfway up her legs. In the distance, she heard birdsong as the first of the morning birds began greeting the new day. It all made her smile with the simple joy of it. The morning was so perfect that it was almost like it was carefully crafted by a master artisan. 