I looked down at the ground this morning at all the leaves. Most of them are yellow and various shades of brown. That’s how Fall always begins: with the early, worn out leaves of the summer. But just a few feet away there was a little sprinkling of what’s to come….bright red maple leaves, brilliant in their Fall clothes. I gathered up the few that were on the ground and they are now tucked away for a long journey West.
Six thousand miles from here, they will find their way to an ocean shore. They will bring a little piece of “home” to Leroy’s resting place.
It’s tradition that I bring with me some of what he loved so much about being home. Fall was always a favorite time of year because of the colors. Our canal walks had a better pace in the Fall because the air was so crisp. We would watch the colors along the C and O Canal Towpath change by the day.
It’s almost like someone gives those trees a brush stroke of color every evening so they greet the sunrise with new Fall color until they almost glow in orange and red and yellow hues.
I’ll gather other important pieces that will be a part of my annual remembrance on the beach. The Snickers bar, the Mai Tai, so many of his favorite things.
It’s hard to imagine it’s already been another year.
I wonder if he wonders where I’ve been?