Autumn is a beautiful time of year and every year my husband and I take our own leaf tour.  We never tire of the scenes; every year is different. Every year I think of my Mom.

In the orientation sessions while the war brides were waiting for the transport ship, they showed slides of Canada. The reaction had been They don’t make trees that red!

Oh, but they do.

The red draws my eye. 

I hesitate

I admire

 I wonder

What was my mother’s reaction?

To a single tree against a cloudless sky?

To Hawthorne berries among the thorns?

To a slash of red standing front and center?

 

I marvel at the colours. I love the oranges and yellows just as much, but it is the red that triggers the memory.

I grew up with this annual display, and every year I marvel. What a wonder it must have been for my mother in the fall of 1946, her first Fall in New Brunswick.