One of the things I miss is the New England fall.
|You can look ...|
There's the stylish fall fashions and crisp autumn air, the smell of burning wood, warming my hands in front of a fire or the feel of my nose getting numb working or running out in the open air. But most of all there's the sight of the trees in the forest as their green slips away into a multi-colored tapestry of gold, crimson and red.
Who doesn't have fond memories of jumping
into giant piles of those leaves as a kid?
As good luck would have it:
I had a chance to visit my brother earlier in September. It wasn't yet peak leaf season, or even really that close, but as we rose in altitude toward the northwestern part of Massachusetts, trees within the riparian and wetland valleys were turning into an amber hue.
|But you better not touch!|
And then there was the poison ivy ...
It was turning, too.