Arriving at the Inn on Time

I awoke puffy and stuffy, horrified at the balloon man that stared back at me from the bathroom mirror. An hour before, Trudy had popped out of bed (in her customary fashion), taken a shower, dressed and set off for the promised 7:30am Brewing Of The Coffee. I ignored this and slept another hour, awaking to the morning busy-ness (as is her customary fashion) of a just-returned, caffeinated Trudy.

As I looked at the balloon man, I began to regret my decision, thinking that perhaps caffeine might have reduced my allergic response to the long-unfamiliar feel of fall in the forest. But it's what we came for — turning and falling leaves. And it's what we got.

Just a week earlier, they told us the forest had been fully green, but a few days before our arrival at The Inn on Mill Creek, the leaves had begun to turn. The trees on the hill were beginning to turn, and the pond outside our room was doubling our viewing pleasure.

Fall color was just beginning, and our week had only begun. Trudy's plan was coming together well.

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A much belated summer vacation in the Blue Ridge Mountains, NC.

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