I love Fall. Plain and simple. We've now entered my "birthday month" - yes, I celebrate all month long, so no worries if you miss calling me on the specific day (ahem, the 11th), I just keep the party rolling! This will be the first time I haven't spent my birthday in New England. The melancholy of not being able to see the leaves at the height of their color is sinking in, despite the overwhelming excitement of where I'll be... While I'm looking forward to the natural wonders of Hawaii, I can't help but think I live in the most beautiful place on earth. When I was a child, my Uncle Joe (not related by blood, but certainly closer to me than anyone else) and I used to go out and pick our favorite leaves. We'd judge the density and the merits of their coloring. On a 1-5 scale, of course. Joe now suffers from Parkinson's disease and though we can no longer take our usual hikes through the woods, to the very top of Steep Rock, though he can no longer write me a letter because his hands will not stop shaking, we still press and dry our favorite leaves or late season flower buds and send them to each other when the first snow falls.
I sure hope I can find a worthy leaf before Friday's flight... or perhaps I will have to press and dry a Plumeria from the Big Island... I'm sure Pele will understand.
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