A wide spiral of golden leaves curls across the rain-dark road, its outer edge beginning close to the camera. Each leaf keeps its own shape and texture, from sharp points to bent stems and darker veins. The arrangement narrows towards a man who has paused beneath the trees, looking down at the small circle near his shoes. Behind him, tram rails run towards a pair of distant headlights, drawing another line through the wet boulevard.

Tall plane trees hold a copper canopy over the scene. Their pale, mottled trunks stand beside the museum's long row of illuminated columns, making a second pattern of repeated vertical forms. Pumpkins glow on the steps, where a seated umbrella mender rests beside his case. Across the street, a red leaf outline and a green cup light a quiet cafe entrance. Warm streetlamps break into reflections on the asphalt, leaving the spiral itself richly defined. The small figures give scale to the avenue, while the unexpected arrangement of fallen leaves turns an ordinary autumn night into a curious seasonal scene.