This time of the year on the prairies always pulls me back to that first Autumn I headed off to college.
A long bus ride across the cold prairies, through the nights and early mornings. The morning sun pink on the horizon, the blue of the deep sky, the green of the grass, and the chill on exposed hands. Standing outside a greyhound bus as it stops for a break.
Funny how memories are locked in there like that, and one cold, pink morning suddenly draw you back in time 25 years.
Autumn on the prairies is the best.