Six years ago yesterday, my sister-in-law of 43 years died. She loved so many things I love: her children and family; the woods and all beings that grow and live in the woods; walks alone; mountains; good wine; the view, especially in fall. It was brilliant fall when she died, and she took in the view with pleasure. Of that, I am certain.
When my favorite tree flames carmine and the sky blues, as they do now, I think of her, and of my niece and nephew, and of their children, all of whom love so much of what she loved.
I am sorry she never knew this tree. She would have loved it as I do.
