In the past I have done many posts (almost yearly) about Why Autumn Is the Best Time of the Year (which it is, of course), and because that is a fact, this year I am not going to do that kind of post because everything I have stated before is still true, and I am steadfast that this should be the natural view point of anyone.

This year though I managed to squeeze in a short blast of fall in Canada. The first time I went to Canada was for Connie’s sister’s wedding towards the end of September. That year was a mild one, and the leaves had yet to properly start turning red. In Ontario the leaves don’t turn a yellowey green like they do in the UK, but instead sharply change from green to bright red and the result is absolutely incredible.

Looking out the window at work right now as I type this on my lunch hour I can see a line of trees that are slowly changing colour. In the early afternoon sun under a clear blue sky, the colours are relatively bright, but still oddly poetically subdued compared to the dark reds that I saw in Canada. It is funny how the two seasons are so different and the connotations between the two are so different for people.

Canada and Scotland have ties, long lasting ties, and ones that for me will never be the same. Being with Connie has changed my life in every way for the better, but it’s the subtle things that make the oddly strongest impact. I’ve talked about my relationship with Canada before, but it is only slowly becoming clear that when we have children of our own, I’ll be the only single-nationality person in my family (unless you count UncleFrank, which I tend to).