better than a burning bush

The thing I loved MOST about living in Boston was the fall. I loved going to Boston Common and enjoying the fall colors, and letting the children crunch in the leaves. I loved visiting Cort's advisor's house in Vermont and playing in the leaves. As autumn rolled in, the thought of missing all of that was sad. The deciduous trees in ABQ turn color, but it's all the same shade of yellow. Our backyard has three pine trees, and our front yard has one weak little tree, and some out of control hedge things. Then last week, I was cleaning the breakfast dishes, and I slid open the shade, and I gasped. The little tree had lit up with color. I felt like it was a bona fide message from God. It was a vision of New England, reassurance, and a feeling of being home, and this comforting signal is right in front of my kitchen window. I love it, and it gets more and more vibrant with each passing day.