Driving along tree-lined back-roads painted under a canopy of golden and sienna leaves.
Occasional pops of cherry red.
The music of Mozart on the airwaves.
A harvest of colors and sounds on an October New England morning.
I remember these days as a child; walking home from school and looking for the driest golden leaves I could step on, just to hear the crunch under foot.
Today was one of those days.
Blue sky.
Cooler temps.
A taste of winter in the air. The golden leaves on the sides of the roadway waiting for a child's footstep, and the crunch that followed.
Timeless.
AME
1 comment:
I remember raking tons and tons of leaves into piles as tall as we were, then jumping in them, getting leaves in our mouths and hair, and even in our undergarments! I'll never forget the smell of dried leaves either! Great memories....
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