It was in a Sunday of sun, while we went for the mountain range, in one month of April, that I discovered the Autumn. When contemplating the landscape for the window of the car, I started to perceive that the sun had a different light, later I felt that it had, also, a different heat. Until that moment I liked it summer because of the heat, vacation, beach and of the spring because it was one will foresee that still in it offered with many flowers and a profusion to them of cheiros. But as I had left the Autumn to pass unobserved? Vocs already had stopped to observe the light of the sun in the Autumn? It is different, is the light that I see in the pictures of the Monet, is a full light of mysteries makes, to remember me old film, black and white photo, an end of afternoon in the field. the heat then, it does not burn, not arde, it heats, is a heat of aconchego, of beginning of namoro, a heat of first kiss, with mature taste of pitanga. It is in the Autumn that we can smearing in them eating fruit of conde, we can paint a full picture of light, or only take a walk hugged in friozinho of the end of the afternoon. They use to advantage, they leave pra the street, they go until the square to discover the Autumn, still of in time.