Stream of Consciousness on an Autumn Morning

They sound like cliche’s: cool, crisp, bright, refreshing…but they are all true. It is an almost-perfect autumn day. The air has a certain tangy smell.  The temperature is brisk.  The sun is shining on the Wasatch mountains, making the reddening scrub and the stark white snow play together like ornery school children competing for attention.

I am drawn back into my memory…to other days like today.  I am small, noticing the changes with a child’s open curiosity. I am a bit older, learning that these smells mean school days and impending winter.  I am ten, pretending to ride wild horses on the playground.  I am a teenager, after driving around for hours, opening the car door to the chill night.  Memories upon memories seem to be strung like beads on the thread of autumn.

What a beautiful day. What a beautiful life. How precious to remember…

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