Fall Photo

Fifty years ago this week, I left my beloved home in Michigan. I was eleven years old and had no say in the matter, but I remember well the golden maple leaves and cool temperatures as we loaded the old Dodge to carry us to South Florida. I have only been back to Port Huron twice since then. Once when my father died. Once when my mother died. But my heart is still there and always will be. (Photo borrowed from Weather Underground.)