I stepped out into this October morning
with the doggies…
As our feet and paws shuffled through the falling leaves,
I noticed how the gingko are once again
This particular yellow
always invokes my remembering Marty,
the dear friend of my late husband and mine
who passed away in 2001.
Marty and his wife would come
and join us for a few days at Thanksgiving.
While Milt and Barbara would stay at home
and have long, left-brain talks,
Marty and I would walk out
into our right-brains and the gingko yellow
of our California Fall.
Milt, being from the East Coast, used to say
that there was no such thing as Fall in California.
I can’t argue the incredible color of the East…
But being a sixth-generation Californian,
I know the changing of the seasons here,
like the beat of my heart.
They can be subtle, but they are here,
the shift in air and the burst of our own Fall color
that blazes in my opinion.
This is my offering this Sunday in October
for Rebecca's 'The Art of Remembering'