Every fall, I take a day to drive to the mountains with my parents. It's our tradition to visit the mountains in October, when the trees are bright with red, orange, and gold, the deciduous trees gorgeous against the dark green conifers. We drive by the old inn where my father worked as a musician during summers in the 1950s, the places we camped at during my childhood in the 1960s, the lake I used to visit with Kindergarten Friend, and the campground I've come to as an adult with my husband and children. We hike some trails and have a picnic by one of the gorgeous mountain lakes, and my parents tell stories about the time they've spent in these mountains.
This year, thanks to Yom Kippur falling on a Monday, I am able to take two days for our annual trip and we are going to stay overnight at same inn where my parents once celebrated one of their wedding anniversaries. That will gives us two full days to hike, talk, picnic, and enjoy the brilliant foliage.