Fall Memories

I have a lot of memories tied to the fall. That's partly because a lot of our family get-togethers happen then--four birthdays, two anniversaries, and Thanksgiving--and partly because my feelings about school were most intense at the beginning of the year when tension/excitement was high. As the leaves turn magnificent shades of vermillion, orange and burnt sienna, I tend to get nostalgic. I have a desire to pull out the family albums and page through them. I want to watch movies I've watched a thousand times before. I suddenly crave pumpkin pie.

Strangely, I also have two paintings in my livingroom that are so realistic they look like you could step into them, and guess what? They're both depictions of the fall. One's an old farmhouse under a sweeping tangerine maple tree, with a big puddle in the front yard, a toy sailboat just waiting to be launched. The other's a brick house, the trees nearly empty of leaves because they've all fallen to the ground, and big puddle playing host to a gaggle of geese. Of all the pictures I could have bought, why did I buy those? Because they trigger my memories.

Memories of sitting 'round a table with my family feasting on turkey, jumping into mile-high piles of leaves, splashing in puddles, breathing in the cool, crisp air and the first tendrils of fireplace woodsmoke. Light rain, deep thickets of poplars--yellow on top and soggy brown at the bottom, the perfect shape of a leaf left on the sidewalk, the excited bounce in my dog's step. Surprisingly wonderful fall memories.

Off I go ... I'm inspired to write.