We're finally starting to see some serious fall color here at our Little Red House. This is the sugar maple that my dad planted years ago. It's always the most beautiful color in our yard. When they were little, my kids would rake all the fallen leaves, and jump off the picnic bench into the pile, crunchy and fragrant.
Afterwards, we would all cram into the car and drive to Wightman's Farm for homemade donuts and apple cider. If we were really lucky, the donuts would still be warm, and the cider was always freshly pressed.
Oh, I miss those days when such simple things made us all so happy -- the autumn sunlight slanting through the leaves that were left on the trees, making them come alive with color like a stained glass window;
the weight of a child squirming in your lap as you tied her shoe; the lovely smell of the crushed pears from a nearby tree, fallen to the ground amid the lazy drone of the bees.
Will another autumn day ever be as sweet?
Edited to add: A family in my daughter's school lost a child to suicide this week. Please remember them in your prayers.