This is me when I was about 12. It is autumn and I am at an apple orchard with my mom, my brother and my little sister. (The orchard has closed since then, but I remember so many happy times there.) The air smells like fallen leaves and ripe fruit and freshly baked cider doughnuts. The summer sun breaks through the clouds and battles with the delicately encroaching winter air. Mom scolds me for eating more apples than I put in my bag and Dillon and I throw rotten apples at each other.
Sometimes I think I may be the luckiest girl in the world, because people come from all over the world to experience a New England autumn, and I've been able to experience one every year of my life. The kids are going back to school today, and I saw the football team practicing on the track earlier this week. I almost fell off my bike on the way to work because I was distracted by how perfect the air smelled. Soon I will find a bright red maple leaf and press it in my journal and I will remember how Mom and I used to go for long walks down the dirt road, collecting orange, golden and crimson leaves to decorate the dining room table.
Sometimes I think I may be the luckiest girl in the world, because people come from all over the world to experience a New England autumn, and I've been able to experience one every year of my life. The kids are going back to school today, and I saw the football team practicing on the track earlier this week. I almost fell off my bike on the way to work because I was distracted by how perfect the air smelled. Soon I will find a bright red maple leaf and press it in my journal and I will remember how Mom and I used to go for long walks down the dirt road, collecting orange, golden and crimson leaves to decorate the dining room table.
