Dave Bonta watches autumn arrive and sees it as a kind of travel. The trees and the meadow strip down as if preparing for a journey, leaving "excess baggage" behind at the gate. Even the sun seems to be packing light, "abandoning most of the sky" like a budget traveler with only a small bag. The tone is plain and quietly funny at first, but it settles into stillness: "the days are so quiet now."
The last stanza shifts from observing to asking. The speaker wants to go along, even with no destination, and even if it means "leaving myself behind." That line suggests a longing to shed the self the way the trees shed their leaves, letting go of everything unnecessary. The mood is calm, a little wistful, and tinged with loneliness. Autumn here is not just sad; it is also a tempting model for how to let go and simply move on.