A Jersey Autumn

Comparatively speaking, you could say the East Coast's tri-state area hosts perhaps the gloomiest fall. When I was recently there, a non-stop, heavy rain and a sun that only periodically mustered up enough energy to squeeze itself through clouds, could have kept me pining for a tropic break. But then I would not have allowed myself the patience to witness the performance of a temperamental East Coast autumn. When I woke up the first morning in my sister's house in NJ after a long, uncomfortable 4-hour flight the night before, I pulled back the curtains and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing a gentle, yet present sun stretching out across still-green grass, shimmering over shades of rust-red, orange, and yellow foliage that graced the clusters of weeping cherry, Japanese maple and silver maple trees. The giant magnolia tree and apple trees were green, but there were still sparks of color surrounding this late 1700 homesteaded 5-acre lot. Strategically planted hydrangea, peony, rose-of-sharon, lilac, forsythia, larkspur and clematis, all in different stages of life, made brave showings. Later that morning, walking my sister's dog around the drying corn fields and open space land across from her house, I could smell the wet leaves and the swift Musconetcong River that flows across their land. This was my only day of sun. The other five days were rain-soaked and cloudy. I can't say that I would like this forever, nor could my family, who complained as I eventually did for a reprieve. But on one of those cloudy days when I was home alone, (everyone else working or at school), I absolutely melted into the sound of steady, bountiful rain and worked quietly on my laptop in the office upstairs.

On Olivia's (my niece) day off, we walked around the charming river town of Clinton. We ate delicious deli sandwiches, scouted boutiques and antique shops, sipped tea and delighted in tasting Thai-made pastries, and later, were treated to spa facials, courtesy of my sister. One day, I watched Oliva at English riding lessons. And of course, I was never so happy as when I was experiencing the wonders of my brother-in-law's cooking: his handling of even the simplest ingredients is awe-inspiring. He can turn chard and turnip greens into a feast, not to mention risotto, fish, or pork. I truly pity those of you who do not have such generous and loving relatives and who have never experienced the beauty of a Jersey autumn.