My mom mentioned the other day that the leaves were beautiful at home — one of the prettiest falls she can remember.
It occurred to me that now that I live in Richmond, a relatively flat city, I miss out on the fall colors in the mountains. When I was growing up I took the mountains for granted. I grew up in a place where, anytime you gave people directions, you always said something like, “it’s right at the bottom of the mountain.” Anytime we went anywhere we crossed some combination of Bent , Buck, Five Mile, Ferrum, or Windy Gap Mountains. But it was so normal, so I didn’t even realize I lived in the mountains until I moved away. I miss the mountains, especially in the fall.
Not that the trees don’t show off here at 166 ft above sea level, too. Not that fall in Richmond isn’t totally and completely beautiful.
Here’s a trivia fact about me. My favorite tree is the ginkgo tree. I love the shape, and even the texture of the leaves. And in the fall, I love their monochromatic display. They transform from bright green to solid yellow, and when it happens, it looks like they’re glowing.
Not that any of this changes my opinion of the season. I’ve spent the past few days shaking my fist because it’s freezing cold outside, it gets dark by 5 p.m., and strawberries cost $4/pint. All you fall-lovers? I hope you’re all happy.
On another note, happy birthday (a day late) to Tom, my partner in — among other things — hating cold weather.