Last Friday, a Chinese friend of mine called me to ask if I wanted to go with him and some friends to Fragrant Mountain 香山 in Beijing. I'd heard so many people talk about Xiangshan that I'd been wanting to go for a long time, so of course, I was thrilled at the chance. When we got there after a 2 hour bus ride, we found that we were too late in the season to see the red and yellow colors of the leaves in the height of beauty. Most of the leaves had fallen or were more brown and yellow than red. Plus, there were so many people along the way that we probably saw more human heads than leaves. 
China's autumn scenery, while pretty, doesn't compare with New England's fall scene. I always loved leaf-jumping and running up Prospect Street underneath flaming red trees and golden, sun-kissed maple trees. I still remember those two beautiful bright red trees that frame Cross Campus and the entrance to Sterling Memorial. I still remember apple picking through crisp, sweet-smelling orchards, warm homes permeated with the spicy smells of mulled cider, and of course, buttery apple pie. I now believe New England's autumn is the best in the whole world.
So although Xiangshan didn't compare with New England, it was fun just for the mountain-climbing/hiking and the new friends I made. I finally met some Chinese female friends.
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