Autumn or Fall whichever one prefers is a wonderful and magical time of year when the earth transforms into a burst of color. This is the time of year when all begins to settle down and just maybe a quick look back to remember always the journey that came before. All the many pieces of a puzzle that have helped to shape the person you have become today.

Places where we lived and others we may have visited always with the intent to return, but with fondness keeping them all close, locked in the chambers of our hearts and mind. All the many people met along the way and the heartache when it is time to say good-bye.

There is so much missed yet the many people and places are all alive and well in my mind. A place that I can recall as often as I wish to see, hear, smell and feel over and over again. There is so much that I miss and each night I pray one of these days to return to my home on the east coast again to enjoy each precious moment as the seasons cleanse what was and offer hope and promise for better things yet to come.

In my heart and soul I miss hearing the crunching under my feet as I walk through dried fallen leaves, the crispness in the air. The agony of not attending the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade, watching the Rockettes perform at Radio City and the many ballet's at Lincoln Center as I have so many times in the past.

How many times my hands and feet became numb as the body froze standing for hours at Times Square on New Year's Eve waiting for the ball to come down bringing in the new year with all the hope and promise one could ever dream. I have seen Niagra Falls in the dead of winter as it freezes over on the outer surface, yet continues to fall underneath. It isn't just Niagra Falls, but the Horseshoe Falls too!

I miss trying to catch the delicate snowflakes as they gently journey down to earth, as if God was gently wrapping his arms around all of us to say "don't worry" it will be okay. A strong fondness for Sleepy Hollow this time of year to partake in all the hayrides, pumpkin picking, and listening to stories of lives lived such a long time ago. A time when the Dutch, the British were in full swing and Hessian soldiers walked this land.

I miss FortTiconderoga which changed hands between the British, French and Americans six times before being claimed by theAmericans. A fort like no other that is worth a trip to see and touch the stone walls so high and so thick. To walk in the footsteps of those we only read about in history books and whose names are slowly fading.

Most of all I miss the ocean, as it slaps up on the sand and slithers back out with such a constant steady rhythm and always the smell of salt. Watching the sword-fish leap high out of the water in all its majestic beauty and sand sharks hovering close to shore in search of food.

Yes, I guess I miss home, but it remains alive and well in my heart and mind as do all the friends met along the way. Perhaps with God's blessing, one day finding my way home again......

Written by:
Karen Palumbo
Photography "NOT" by:
Robert Palumbo
10/9/2009 (c)