Ah, nostalgia!

Happy Tuesday. ☺

It's crazy how fast the leaves turn color in the fall! Last week, our maple tree had a ton of green leaves; this week, they're all gorgeous shades of burnished red and gleaming gold. Autumn is such a beautiful time of year. There's just something about it makes me feel so nostalgic.

And speaking of nostalgia, this animation created by filmmaker Andrea Dorfman really takes me back to those halcyon days of first love. It features a sweet song that Dorfman's boyfriend, Dave Hayden, wrote and recorded for her one year as a birthday present. To me, this video exemplifies what this season of reminiscence and wistfulness is all about. I hope you enjoy it.



Wishing you all a beautiful and memorable Tuesday. ☺

Look up!

I said those words to my three-year-old daughter last week as we were waiting for the school bus to bring her brother back home from kindergarten. Ever since I was a kid, I've thought that the best view of a tree was found by looking up through its branches, especially at this time of year, when the leaves have mostly fallen, leaving dark limbs silhouetted against the sky.

Yesterday was sunny and bright, a perfect day for gazing at these tree-skeletons, so I went outside with my camera and snapped a few shots. The first two are of the only tree in our front yard. There's something so dramatic and regal about it. I'm sure it would have some stories to tell.

 

 

The next shot is of my neighbor's trees. I love how delicate the branches seem, lacy against the sky—living poetry.

I'm sure it's no surprise that autumn is one of my favorite seasons. What do you enjoy most about fall?

100 words on children growing up

Autumn cooled the air this morning, its chilly blast creeping through my bedroom window, sending me scurrying for warm clothes. Afterward, I rocked my two-year-old, enjoying her warmth and thankful that she's still willing to cuddle, that I'm still her world. It hurts my heart to think that one day my children might shun me as I try to kiss them or run from my open arms. My four-year-old hugs me when I drop him off at preschool, and I want to cling to him, knowing that my days of being number one aren't forever.

Soon

Today's 100 words:

As I age, the weather seems to get colder, and those things I loved as a child--kicking through piles of leaves, playing tag in the crisp autumn air--don't interest me as they once did. Instead, the cold seeps into my bones, and the last thing I want to do is venture outside. But I'll do it for my kids, who for weeks have been awaiting winter's appearance. My oldest asks me often when the snow will come, when he'll be able to build snowmen and make snow angels. Soon enough, I tell him. Too soon, I tell myself.

Fall's kiss

This morning's 100 words:

I can feel fall's kiss in the air today, the sharp coldness stealing in through the open window, bringing with it that crisp smell only autumn can possess. Spring, as fall's opposite, its fraternal twin, doesn't exhibit the same crispness, that same sense of a cold sheet snapping on a line, that feeling of sharp electricity that seems to be in the air when the trees start to shed their leaves, the pleasant scent of decay rising around them. Spring's is a clean smell, a washed-earth smell, signifying a beginning, while fall, though lovely, takes us closer to the end.