"Everyone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn," wrote Elizabeth Lawrence. You might have missed it altogether when it came to this sycamore tree on Pine Street on the Heights. One recent morning, in a slight breeze, the dry foliage noisily clattered and clicked as they departed the sycamore branches, the tree veritably raining long-leathery leaves. They fell fast and abundantly, as if pulled by gravity itself. "Falling leaves/hide the path/so quietly," goes John Bailey's haiku. Not with this tree and its pathway below. Autumn was rarely so loud. The tree dispensed with its leaves seemingly all at once. Nearby ash and maple trees calmly discarding a few autumnal shards here and there, patiently in league with the true downpour that would come on the morning and afternoon of Nov. 16. Later, holiday lights on the same house accentuate the barren branches and seem to celebrate the coming season.