Growing up in New England, I have always loved autumn.
The crispness of the air, the blaze of color as the trees
shout out one last song before giving up their leaves.
Even after 30 years, I still miss it.
The closest I come to experiencing it is in North Carolina.
I have been blessed with having a dear friend live there for the last 20 years.
Two years ago I brought Isabel up there for the first time.
We did a lot of exploring,
Went apple picking,
ate hot apple donuts,
saw how tall we were
played in miniature houses,
fed ducks
and laughed ourselves silly.
Last weekend we returned.
It was glorious.
I was in heaven.
We stayed on a farm this time and woke up on Saturday to a morning in the 30s with frost on the ground. Isabel was in her glory.
She was surrounded by chickens, cats, and dogs.
She visited her first hen house and gathered eggs
She had wide fields of golden grasses to run in
and huge piles of leaves to run through.
We went back to the apple orchard
and saw how tall we are,
and played in miniature houses
and saw amazing foliage,
We discovered a small bamboo forest
We drank apple cider slushies,
ate hot apple cinnamon doughnuts.
and picked flowers
We met up with good friends,
laughed,
walked,
and ate well.
In all, the trip lasted less than two days
and yet it was enough to tie us over...
at least until next year.
