October's over.

October has its own color. The sun shines differently than other times of the year and when the green of summer is fading fast, as now, when October winds down, the color of November starts to intrude.
Beyond the brilliant colors of the leaves from my New England childhood, there is just a certain hue October casts. For the past few weeks, I have remembered my last fall in Connecticut. That was also the last time I owned a motorcycle; I spent some of those last few weeks riding in the Indian Summer sun, marveling at the way the green fields looked so different.
One Saturday afternoon in particular stands out for several reasons. My Triumph was actually running good that day (not always the case with old English motorcycles), the half hit of blotter I ate was working just right and that was also the last time I saw Jan.
I was coming to a stop at the end of Day Street, just above the Holcomb Farm. It was getting late in the afternoon. Shadows were long but brilliant. The sun was still warm. She was walking towards me as I stopped. It had been a couple years since we dated, but when I recognized her my heart still skipped a beat. Her beautiful smile, which always seemed to start near her heart beamed when she saw me. I know now that she gave that smile to anyone in need of one (which meant everyone, really), but Jan had a way of making all the people she met feel special.
I told her I was moving to Texas and she wished me a good life. I told her I wished the same for her.
I have always wondered how it turned out for her, whether my wish for her was as powerful as her wish for me seems to have been. I hope so.

There are less than a handful of people in the world that could call me and ask me to meet them and I would go. Right then. Jan is one.

Goodbye, October. Thanks for the memories.