I heart Fall (and leaves and Mr. Wickstrom and road trips)

Saturday was a special day -- it's the day we got ready for...

(Oops...slipping into song is a side-effect of endless Sundays with crazy, er cute?, three-year-olds.)

The Wickstroms share an affinity for extended hours pint up in a confined space, traversing God's green earth and rocking out to killer tunes while intermittently exclaiming, "Whoa, a tree!" and "No, seriously, look at the TREE!" and "Ew, those teenagers are making out in the car behind us; hurry--look!"

Hoping to catch the Fall foliage at its peak, we once again journeyed to the Blue Ridge mountains. Lucky for you we were armed with our camera (and a stack of batteries).

**WARNING: I will now utilize my expansive Fall vocabulary to narrate the following photos. Can I get a "What? What?!"

The winding mountain roadway was framed in a collage of burnt sienna, bordeaux, raw umber and cinnamon. A few bright green trees joined the mix, unwilling to surrender their chlorophyll.

Just as we hoped -- a cornucopia of autumnal pigments, peppering the mountainside foliage.

And purple peaks of the Blue Ridge Mountains glistening in the distance.

Okay, I'm tired. No more captions for a while. I'm just gonna sit back and munch on acorns and gourds while you check out these photos:

Okay, I'm back. I love the following photo a bushel and a peck. What a dreamy slice of scrumptious pumpkin pie!

And of course the requisite self-portraits. The second is our homage to mystery and cloaking.

We wrapped up our festive migration with a bounteous harvest at a random roadside restaurant just over the Bridge of Madison County (no, really). Our culinary choice stemmed from the number of vehicles packed into the parking lot. Let's just say, the experience was worth the price. And the food stuck to our ribs for four days.

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