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The End of the Road

Nov 19, 2014

Fall_1It’s fall. Our fall in Southern California, anyways, which is not much of a fall.

We know; don’t remind us.

We don’t need reminding, those of us who grew up with ancient trees, umbrellas of leaves like domes above our heads—brilliant, blinding yellows, rusty oranges, and smashing reds from raspberry to ruby to maroon.

The fall seasons we experienced in New England were glorious, and even after twenty-five years in our beloved Southern California, we do miss them.

So, we find fall in very small ways.

 

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