And You and You and You
It might be the leaves as they begin to turn, that first morning where you can actually sense it getting cooler, the way the air feels just a little different. But if you really want to know, it’s the season I fell in love. The drives up the mountain, listening to albums that would later become the soundtrack to something much bigger, so many questions and so much anticipation. A new top, a carefully packed bag, broken in sneakers, a toothbrush. We were so young. And in a way, it was a time when I began to see myself differently too. A delayed coming of age, 22 and everything was new, everything was foreign- an alternate space where things actually worked out just as I hoped. The yellow lines on the road as I headed north, one after another, the same mountains out my window, the tips of green leaves beginning to turn orange- nothing seemed as important as where I was headed. 16 years later and the feeling is the same- except now- a rebirth. So much time between then and now, so much change after three children, and me, coming back to myself after so long. An old season that feels new again. Green to yellow to orange to red. And in turn, remembering that feeling as it all led to this very place. The crisp air, those first leaves, and you and you and you.