It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life. (P.D. James)

 

I spent new year's day with my mom, and one of the things that we did (along with all the talking, laughing, eating, and knitting) was to take a stroll along River Walk on the St. Lucie River. It was the perfect day for a walk on the boardwalk. The cold front has moved on, leaving just enough brisk in the air to make it comfortable to be outside without forcing us warm-blooded Floridians into our heavy sweaters.

A pleasant side-effect of the recent cold front was our discovery of fall foliage. We don't often get to see the leaves turn pretty colors - they are usually either green, or brown and on the ground. As a result, we tend to romanticize the fall colors. Some of my best memories are riding with my grandmother into northern Jersey to see the leaves. But while I'm sure that the leaves were well-worth the long car ride, I also know that my grandmother would use any excuse to go exploring. As an adult, seeing the mountains of Kentucky turn colors in the fall was rivaled in beauty only by watching them brighten back up with flowers and greens in the spring. While I don't miss the winters (especially after the past several days of adding wool socks and heavy sweaters to my early morning/evening wear), I wouldn't mind taking a long car ride to see the trees dressed in reds and oranges -- and then stopping for some hot spiced apple cider at a roadside stand.

Anyway, mom and I were overly excited yesterday afternoon to see a couple of trees sporting colorful leaves.

Just for the record -- although the leaves were beautiful and we had a nice discussion regarding our shared fall memories, I see no need for Mother Nature to take the matter any further by bringing us winter weather. I am quite content to simply talk about snow, without any snowflake prompts.