But now--somehow--it is November and the mountains have reached through the last of the falling leaves to find our house.
The change is not necessarily for the better or worse, but the view of those majestic peaks is welcome.
There are times when I find old photos of Beau and moments gone by reach through the lushness of thirteen years to embrace me.
And now--somehow--he is a teenager.
Earlier this week I waited for him as a sea of colossal eighth graders spilled out the front of the school. Beau's 5'3" frame emerged and climbed into the front seat. His friend, Daniel found the back seat.
"So Daniel," Beau began, "where are you going trick-or-treating this year?"
"Oh...um...I'm not going this year."
"What? Why not?"
"I'm kind of getting a little too old for that."
I watched it happen in my peripheral vision. This was the same boy who we had to finally sit down in the fifth grade for a very frank conversation about Santa Claus.
No clue, I tell you.
And now clearly he was completely oblivious to the thought that someday he just might be too old to trick-or-treat.
The transition over the next two days was interesting.
He asked another friend, Tyler, "are you going trick-or-treating this year?"
He called Jaxon. "What are you doing for Halloween this year?"
By now his tone had changed from the thrill of dressing-up and petitioning kind strangers for candy to a more socially aware exploration of the alternatives.
He ended up spending Hallowen "hanging out" at Jaxon's house with Daniel and Tanner--all good boys.
So this was the year. At thirteen, Beau shrugged off trick-or-treating like it was last year's too-small-coat.