A fall day. The leaves are turning bronze. New Hampshire '89. I've been transported to that year just by looking at my dad's mustache. Or perhaps my mom's hair style. There's a bridge in the background hovering over a trail of dirt. Three people stand upon it. The sun tries breaking through the tall, untamed trees. My mom in a leather jacket and my dad in a grey nylon one up on a wooden balcony overlooking a picturesque Autumn scene.

It's a chilly day. Only a light jacket and a sweater is needed. They're on a family vacation. Hiking up long, dirt, trails, they stopped for a picture over the gold, orange, and green forrest. The fall air is still. They're happy for it is a joyous day in New Hampshire.