Turning Over A New Leaf.

I’m reluctant to get out of bed. The chill air outside the protection of the blankets is keeping me in place for the moment. Finally, I race from the warmth to the pile of clothing I prepped the night before. Lined leggings under the roomy boyfriend jeans go first, the skin tight t shirt then the blousy longer cotton t, a cable knit sweater and scarf.  I’ll bring my parka just in case. 

I’m crossing the river that is spotted with dense fog but through the fog are the glorious reds, yellows and vivid oranges waving to me. I have always loved fall colors but never actually lived them except for a few trees sparsely scattered in the desert I called home. Here, at times, they threaten to cover me with the towering trees on both sides of the road, one must struggle to catch a glimpse of the grey blue sky above. 

I reach a spot on the bridge where I catch my breath. The bright morning sun is cresting the mountains east of here and sharing its golden brilliance with the most beautiful gifts that fall has to offer. They are standing at the waters edge, getting ready to sleep through the cold months. But not yet, not before they compete in natures beauty contest where I, as a member of the audience, am the winner. 

A little further down the road, I am driving at a snails pace. It’s early and there is barely a car around. I enjoy watching the leaves in the street being blown into flurries, swirling around a man walking his dog. 

What a glorious morning to be alive. 

Now, tea with a new friend. The start of a very good day.