Minneopa, "water falling twice"

The leaves are turning.

There's that "season change" smell in the air
when I walk outside in the morning.

It's Minneopa weather.

So off a friend and I went yesterday for a walk through Minneopa State Park. This is the scene of so many wonderful childhood memories, when my mother and aunt would pack a huge picnic and cram 6 kids and several friends into two station wagons and set out for the park. We'd have a smoky fire, char some hotdogs, eat way too many s'mores, run around like wild children through the woods, up and down the stairs, to the falls (and if you were my brother, you'd "accidentally" land in the creek once or twice, every single year).

My friend and I traveled those same routes, though a little more slowly than my childhood pace. It was a strangely warm day for mid-October. The valley under the falls echoed with the voices of little boys. The air was filled with a family's smoky fire and laughter. We lingered on the paths, got out a blanket and spread it out over a pile of leaves, and rested there on our backs, looking up at the grey sky through a veil of golden maple leaves.

Then the sun got ready to set

and turned this tree fiery red.

The shadows crept out from under the rocks.

And it was time to head home. Less sweaty, less exhausted, less sugared-up and a lot less grubby than in my childhood years, but no less happy with my Minneopa fix.