One of These Things is Not Like the Others

"In Phoenix summer is
the title, the refrain,
And every other verse."
~Linda Solegato

Hmmm, let's see ... where shall we start? Here are a couple of shots of one of my favorite places back home. This is High Hill Ranch in Camino in the popular Apple Hill area. This is about the half-way spot between Sacramento and Lake Tahoe -- about 45 minutes to an hour away from each. The crimson and amber hues are set against the lush evergreen pines. Gorgeous.

Another image of Vista Road in Camino. This is just a few miles north of the Mountain Democrat, the newspaper I worked at in my earlier years. It was a long commute but I always loved the drive in the fall ... so calm and peaceful and as you traveled up the highway and got into town, it looked like this.


And here's a lucky jogger enjoying a luscious autumn day in New York's Central Park. I've never been to New York, but jogging through the park is on my must-do-sometime-in-life list. In the fall would be icing ... of course I'd probably freeze my Arizona tail off.

A beautiful scene in Philadelphia ...


Here's Blake and Nick helping my mom rake leaves several years ago.


And Nicky kicking back in a wheelbarrow o'leaves.

And, here's a view of fall at my house. This is the view from my driveway (we're at the end of a cul-de-sac). Not at all fall-ish, but quite picturesque.

There's nothing like when October rolls around. When all the neighborhood kids with months of pent-up, too-hot-to-go-outside energy can finally be kids again, riding their bikes and kicking the soccer ball around, chalking up the sidewalk with hearts and butterflies. I love to grab a magazine or the newspaper and plop down in a chair out front and watch them frolic about -- OK, and make sure those crazy boys don't destroy anything.

Here, the only sign of Fall at our house is the beginning of the Halloween decorations. Just in the past couple days is it finally cool enough to actually wear jeans and, in the mornings and evenings, a sweatshirt.

It's early November. Kids grab their crayons and coloring books to take outside. They're wearing shorts and tank tops. We hear the music from the circling ice cream truck.

I'll always miss the falls I've come to know in Northern California. But, just like the kids screaming in excitement at the sound of that darn ice cream truck, the return of chilly mornings, the occasional angry winds, the temperate weather -- it's all a treat for me.

It's a gorgeous time of year in Phoenix ... just so different.