If I could have an 'autumn home'... much the same as a summer home or winter home, but an autumn home... it'd be in Concord, Mass. I don't think I've ever been so enchanted by a place.
From....
... the cobble-stone, tree-lined streets with white picket fences and delightful salt box houses... to the town square with St. Bernard's Catholic Church and it's crickety old cemetery to the east and the beautiful, white First Parish Unitarian Church to the south. There's Main street with its charming little shops filled with antiques and books and woolen sweaters and candied apples, breads and pastries and warm soups and ciders.
To the...
...outskirts of town and all of it's amazing history. The Revolutionary War began in Concord at the Old North Bridge. But then there are all the authors that lived there and their remaining homes and home sites... Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nathaniel Hawthorne and his Old Manse, Louisa May Alcott and Orchard House with its roots of Transcendentalism, Henry David Thoreau and his tiny cabin at Walden Pond. There's the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery... surrounded by a forest of trees and low, stone walls... the authors are all buried there and people leave pumpkins, flowers and other sentimental trinkets on the graves.
I could have explored Concord for weeks... I dream of going back there some day... but only in autumn... during 'peak leaf season'. Where I can take in every last crag and crevice and leave no stone unturned...well, maybe a few... so that I can return again and again and each time will be a bit of a new adventure.
Oh, and did I mention who'd love it just as much as I? The Lovely Barbara. I'll be with her today. We'll chat and I'll bring it up. And it'll be something absolutely wonderful to look forward to.
...where I sat and ate lunch... and sipped spicy cider