It's the time we await and long for throughout the cold winter, wet spring and hot, humid summer. The slightly acrid aroma of the red, yellow and brown leaves fills the air and mixes with the musty smell of damp leaf mold underfoot. The sky is always at its bluest, and the clouds their whitest. I believe that heaven is modeled after the New England fall. It's a time for grandmothers to watch their grandsons play "fall ball' and sew halloween costumes for their princess granddaughters. It's a time to carry a thermos of hot coffee while tramping through the woods at daybreak and sit on a old stone wall completely at peace. No matter what happens for the rest of the year, I'm in love with New England in the fall.
Born and raised in Connecticut. Love the fall and spring seasons. My heart does long for the small brook, the simple flipping of the fly rod into the swirling pools hoping to catch a trout. Have no idea why I'm trapped here where I am. There must be a greater purpose, cause if I had my way I would be out of here long ago. My daughter and son-in law live in Granby Ct. and brought me down some beautiful maple leaves friday.
