There is a particularly beautiful tree on the corner of the street that I pass nearly every day. As I drove past one day, I happened to see that the leaves had changed color, almost as if overnight. Just yesterday I drove past the tree again and noticed that about half of the gorgeous orange leaves had fallen. They lay scattered on the street below, still a vibrant hue, still gorgeous.
Fall has always been my favorite time of year. There seems to be a stillness in the air during the fall. I remember, even at a young age, sitting on the bench in our front lawn and just listening. That's it, just listening. Things sound different in the fall. It is hard to describe, but there is a definite sound to autumn.
Many childhood memories are triggered during the fall. I think about the smell of our leaf pile burning and the sound of the leaves popping in the fire. I think about the grass and how brown and crunchy it got. I think about all the fun my family had decorating the yard for Halloween. Whether it was ghosts hanging from the trees, tombstones in the yard, scarecrows stuffed with pine straw, or a pumpkin bag full of leaves, we always had something. I think about traipsing through the woods across the street in search of the perfect leaf. And then there were the pine straw rides my daddy would take my sister and I on. He would load his trailer full of straw, hook it to his lawn mower, and drive us around the neighborhood.
Perhaps the thing I think about most during the fall is my mama. Fall is her favorite season, too. I don't remember how it started, but we came up with our very own tradition. Each fall, without fail, we would make a trip up to the movie store and rent "Lady in White." I eventually bought her a copy of the movie. And you better believe I will be watching it again this year.
Western New York falls are beautiful. But they are not "my" fall. I miss my fall.
I do, however, look forward to creating fall memories with my children.
