Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Fall in Maine – the making of memories

My childhood is full of happy memories. Like the many generations of children that came before me, I enjoyed the change of seasons, especially the transition from summer into fall.

As a youngster growing up in the back country of northwestern Connecticut, fall was the most beautiful time of the year. The crisp morning air, the color of the leaves in the trees, the crunchy IMG_2778sound they made under your foot and the swooshing noise they made as you walked through endless piles of them along the route to school.

But the best part of fall was the smells. Leaves that have fallen gracefully from the trees gently float down and land all around the grass and the sidewalks below the tree, and eventually the hundreds and thousands of them start to breakdown. The smell of old leaves is heavenly, but now mix that smell in with the aroma of the smoke coming from the neighbors wood stove and throw in all the old apples on the ground from Mrs. Higgins's crab apple tree that I passed on the way to school.

This morning I watched my 8 year old stand at the end of our driveway, waiting for his bus. Unbeknownst to him, the synopsis's in his young brain are quietly forming memories that he will hopefully remember with fondness. His ears were making note of the crunchy sound of the leaves under his size 5 sneakers, the cool air on his face, and the familiar smell of diesel that arrived with a gust of wind as the bus pulled up. With the yellow flashing lights transitioning to red, Robbie stood there as he always does, waiving to the bus driver as she slowly came to a full stop and opened the squeaky bus door. With a quick hug and a kiss, he climbed up the steps, took his seat, and he was gone.

waiting for the school bus
While many of the same smells and sounds are the same as they were when I was a child, the one thing I hope he remembers with fondness will be that of his endearing father, clicking away with the camera, desperately trying to capture the fleeting moments of time that he can never get back.

Making memories, making pictures; perhaps the combination of the two will help Robbie to further enjoy these little moments when he has children of his own and the memories he will help them create.


Anonymous said...

You're first day of school at a New Britain elementary school was unique for you because you set a land speed record for running away from the school door back into your mothers arma. A gazelle had nothing on you. (da ole man)

Sonja said...

Great post. Thanks for sharing this morning with us.