Fall is my favourite time of the year. So it was awesome to drive west from Toronto and then continue into the wilds of Michigan. The colour is just coming into the trees and Joe and I pointed out first this tree, then that burst of colour. It's early in the fall, trees sometimes are just beginning to blush at the realisation that they will soon stand stark naked for all the world to see. I love too the scent of fall. It's different than any time of the year.
Fall is the season of new beginnings. New notebooks, empty with promise, new pens - unchewed - wait to rush words over the page. For me the idea of new year is more powerfully felt in September than at any other time of the month. This, in my heart, is the yearly fresh start.
I remember being in my wheelchair that first year. Long before got the power wheelchair, Joe and I were cautious about how far we could go, with me as first gear and him as second gear, in the manual chair. As we drove through on our trip yesterday, I saw the colours and remembered us getting out of the car and in an instant our 'inner children' burst forth and Joe pushed me pell mell through a big pile of leaves. We stopped with Joe panting from the run with leaves scattered and floating down on just, gently thanking us for one more ride.
I think that moment might have been the moment where I saw not only fall, but my use of the wheelchair as simply another fresh start.