When we moved north of the Mason Dixon line in 1983, my dear Professor and I did not know what to expect. We had both known only two seasons in Texas, hot and hotter, and most of the trees in both of our necks of the woods, even though separated by 500+ miles, were green all year long.
Imagine our surprise that first October in Syracuse. Three year old Principessa, five year old Preacher and I collected as many of the leafy jewel colors that we could find to share them with "Granny" back in Houston. When cleaning out Dad's house last fall I found an old manila envelope with pictures of our first yankee home and a few of those leaves still pressed in wax paper.
