#48 A Season Remembered

by Eduardo Martinez

The sun hung low in a sea of scarlet and auburn pastels. Bright as it was, a crisp wind denied the warmth of its rays, promising cold days ahead. A lone squirrel ran for a bare tree, bringing his latest plunder back to his home. A young couple walked hand in hand down the street. They leaned close to each other, either in affection or against the chill. Their voices muffled by the crunching of the last colorful leaves on the ground. The sound of boisterous laughter filled the air. Two young children playing nearby were jumping in a huge pile of freshly raked leaves. Their brightly colored pink and green jackets a stark contrast to the subdued colors of autumn. Rosy cheeks and noses peeked out from hoodies drawn tight around smiling faces. The father, in his heavy flannel leaned against his rake, a tired grin on his face. He watched with resignation as his work was being undone. The wrinkles in his face said that he had seen many seasons such as this. A red car turned into the driveway, stirring the nearby leaves into a small eddy on the nearby curb. The driver’s small left hand protruded from the window, in a friendly greeting. She was smiling as bright as the sun. Mother was finally home. And suddenly time stopped.

The painter took a step back from his canvas to inspect his work and smiled with approval. His childhood memory had life once more.