Fall always strikes me as a reflective time in the year. Often people get together for one last big camping trip, hiking trek, weekend jeep expedition, or mountain bike ride. Stories are passed around the camp fire. Memories of summer are recalled. Lots of laughter and reminiscing happens as the sun sets in the west and the marshmallows catch fire over the flames. I always remember fall trips with the family to see fall color in the mountains, riding in the back of the pickup truck, or camping in a canyon in the mountains of Utah. Or memories of deer season, hunting with dad, blaze orange vests contrasting with yellow and crimson leaves in North Canyon, and slices of spam sizzling in the pan over the Coleman stove. Good times indeed.
Taken from Cibola Beacon
