The Color of Fall
I hate being late to a party yet we are never on time. I will not point fingers -- I have learned that is rude. The problem with being late -- you are always at the tail end of a conversation or at the end of the food line. The night is spent playing catchup.
That is how I felt as I drove out down I26 towards Asheville, NC. As I drove, I could see the wind briskly blowing through the trees and carrying away the few leaves left. First I cursed the wind, then I started driving faster.