October: my favorite color

Quite recently, I’ve rediscovered mornings. Sleeping in used to be a cherished luxury. After my children were born, my body clock eventually adjusted to getting up early, and then my career took a detour. I started working evenings, not getting to bed until after midnight. So, again, I slept late, pretty much on a daily basis.

My new job has more regular, daytime hours, which I appreciate. But I still don’t get up and walk every morning as I’d like to. After a recent day-long drive back to West Virginia, my tight muscles were aching to stretch, and I was ready for a walk “around the hill.”

When I started out, it was just getting light. The birds – mostly robins – chirped greetings to each other.  As the darkness lifted, and the sun peeked over the hills, my power walk became a quest to capture the sunrise.

I walked around the circle, catching glimpses of daybreak – and the mist. Stopping every few minutes, standing on tiptoe, I darted looks between houses and through the woods, trying not to alarm the neighbors.

An October morning surprise.
How many of these sunrises did I just not see as a child?

The woods on this road were thick, so I hurried on, and remembered the nearby stub of a road that looks about level with the airport, which is on another hill, on the other side of the river. I might capture a good view there. I walked up and down that street a few times, looking for the right spot to snap a picture.

I must’ve hurried up and down that particular road three times looking for just the right scene, knowing my chance to capture the best colors was quickly fading.

The sun gave the fog here an orange glow.
October isn’t just orange, red, and yellow – there are hints of pink, too.

I headed farther on down the hill, then, toward the playground, where our bus stop used to be. On the way down, I found the sun . . .

You never know what’s waiting behind a West Virginia hill.

And, a little farther down, one of my favorite trees. Not quite all its leaves were gone . . .

It was past peak season for fall colors, but I thought this tree was still picture-worthy.

Down and around I went, looking at the old neighborhood, remembering when. Then it was light, and time to head up one of the many, steep hills I used to dread walking up as a child. It’s funny how things change.

The last big hill.