A Walk in the Autumn

I went into the office for a few hours this afternoon and when I left the air was scented with the wine-dark aroma of falling leaves. As I walked to the car, maple, oak and gingko leaves crunched beneath my feet. A flock of starlings chattered away as they do in fall, high up in the pine trees.

I inhaled. This is what I remember from seasons past.

This is it. High autumn.

These days I run too much to appreciate these moments. Instead they are stolen. There is a fugitive feeling to my enjoyment of such things these days.

That must change and change soon. I have always wanted to spend my fall weekends walking through leaves and for more than a few moments. Last year we had two entire weeks of such activities, and that's where the photo above comes from: A walk down a country lane in the hills above Cahors. I thought it had a witchy feel to it. Pure October.

I have wonderful memories of childhood, of walks home from school past the Craftsman houses that filled our little neighborhood. I took many of the same walks in graduate school, hiking through Vilas Park in Madison with a backpack full of notebooks.

Often there would be a bag of muffins from Ovens of Brittany in my backpack. In an ideal world I would come home to apple muffins or pumpkin bars daily!

Home is more attractive in cold weather. Especially if there's something tasty in the oven.