Notes from the Road: Golden Leaves and a Fire with its own personality

Just 45 minutes outside Cañon City, Colorado, fall had arrived.

The leaves are gold, catching the afternoon light and signaling that familiar change of season. I have always liked that about autumn. Change does not necessarily mean something is ending. Sometimes it means making room for something new, carrying with it the optimism of another glorious day.

That evening, we were welcoming new friends to break bread.

The request was simple: bring a fruit salad.

But somewhere between the grocery store and the kitchen, a small watermelon in October caught my attention. It seemed a little out of place for the season, which was probably why it inspired me.

Paired the watermelon with peppery arugula, feta and a drizzle of reduced balsamic vinegar. Sweet, sharp, fresh, and earthy. Summer fruit meeting fall greens, with the balsamic bringing everything together. Maybe there was something fitting about that combination on a night centered around new friendships and a changing season.

Dinner itself stayed wonderfully uncomplicated: brats, potato salad, and the watermelon-arugula salad.

Nothing elaborate. Nothing pretending to be more than it was.

And maybe those are some of the best meals.

Afterward, we adjourned to the fire.

The fire has a personality of its own. Flames shifted and snapped, occasionally settling down before suddenly finding new life. Conversation followed much the same rhythm. Stories were shared, people laughed, and new acquaintances gradually began to feel less new.

Sitting there, watching golden leaves disappear into the darkness beyond the cabin, I thought about how food continues to mark this journey between places.

The seasons change.

Cities change.