A fall day

This post is my second contribution to the Just Write challenge.

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So far, it’s been the best sort of fall. The kind that lasts. Not the kind that is spoiled by a sudden freeze, leaving dead brown leaves to fall, wilted and sad. At least not yet. So far there has been the slow progression of color I hope for every year. Some trees are still completely green, which gives me hope for a few more weeks of mild weather and rainbow leaves.

I’m driving up Benton Ave and the tall trees - what are they? ash? cotton wood? oak? I know nothing about these things - on either side of the street are mostly golden. Not a lot of red or orange in this stretch, just a brilliant yellow. Gold flakes float down in front of my windshield. My tires cause a swirling and twirling of the sea of gold on the road.

Scanning the radio, I land on a Louis Armstrong track. I’ve never heard the song before, but really – how could you mistake that voice? I think of my Grandma Nicki bopping her big hips to the You’ve Got Mail soundtrack. Biting her bottom lip with a smile in her eye.

You’ve Got Mail. There’s a good flick – with a fellow lover of fall. “A bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils.” That always makes me smile. It was one of Grandma’s favorite movies. Probably still is. I feel that old familiar pang of sadness at the loss of those sweet times.