Having Left the Leaves

As I kid I lived in New Hampshire where colour erupted on most trees at this time of year. Some years were, of course, better than others. Generally though, the autumn foliage season was an event enough to have became a part of my experience. I can almost smell the earthy odor as one kicked up newly-fallen, wet leaves after school.

Then, I moved to the deserts of the Persian Gulf. I lost the seasonal markers and the memory of the splashes of red, yellow, and orange. I no longer saw trees getting ready for a frozen winter. In addition, I forgot the association between falling leaves and an academic year.

Ten years ago, we arrived in Canada. I was a bit disappointed by our first British Columbian fall. The landscape is awe-inspiring, don't get me wrong. It's just that I had expected more in the way of a flashy, end-of-summer show. Many of the natural trees are conifers. Maples, due to their national status, are planted along urban pathways but we just don't have the weather to kick start them into brilliance.



Now however, I perceive enough of a change to satisfy my needs for youthful recollection.