StevenLaura

I walked the path through the grove of woods that separates my work from the bus stop. The sun was begining to set. Someone was burning leaves. A colorful tapestry of reds, oranges and browns crackled beneath my feet. It took me back to Shamineau, to my Fall Fling days. Some of my happiest moments were at camp. Yet, something was different. The colorful ceiling of leaves, the sun setting, the smell, the time of year, all these were the same.

But the temperature was 80.
Not 55.

Glorious.

Ah, to live in NC!


Note: I also realized today that I have been taking the bus to work for the last three months, and have not once been waiting for the bus in the rain. I only recall one day where it looked like it might rain. What are the odds?