Fall still pierces sweetly

A cousin of mine posted his 40th birthday on Facebook. I was 13 when he was born. To celebrate, I scanned a photo of my mom holding him when he was a year old. About 1979 - antique gold. avocado green - I think we held off on the orange shag rug until the next house we had!

In those days...Never thought I would say things like that...days of cousins and aunts and uncles; BBQs, power boats on the lake, fishing, playing, Mom and Dad always there. No one was horribly sick, children outlived their parents; there were tough times but big family celebrations on holidays.

That is the piercing today. I think fall does it because of the scents; a hint of woodsmoke and cool autumn leaves triggers memories of Newfoundland, of the small tornados of maple leaves in the schoolyard.

Thank you, my elders, for allowing me the life I had. There are writers skilled and powerful and quick enough to bring all this to life for a reader - the senses, smell, chill of lake water, the roughness of a dock under bare feet. We children always found something to do.

And one memory - the ice cream man! No political correctness then - and no stupid rote music from a circuit board. The ice cream compartment was on wheels, powered by the legs of the guy who pedalled it. The handlebar was horizontal, with bells beneath that were rung rhythmically by the fingers. You could hear it for a good half block. For some reason, we only had it in the neighbourhood where one of our uncles and aunts lived. Our own suburb was quite deprived! ;-) That made the visit much more special.

My cousin, his wife, and their two boys live in the house now. My uncle's ashes are buried beneath the oak tree that has been huge as long as I can remember. My aunt is having a bit of trouble with her mind.

What do you remember? And what do you know?