It is cool, cloudy, and rainy. October has arrived. ‘The Woods are lovely, dark and deep,’ applies. The Old Man found the rain soothing. A balm for the soul. A refreshing. Sounds like none heard emanated from the Woods. Was it children yelling in hunt of prey? Sounds so faint they seemed ethereal. But they continued. No human to be seen nor hunter found. Yet the eerie background noise was constant. The Old Man pondered if it was man or beast. Were they October sounds?

October is a good time to check course. The holidays are upon us. Time to think big thoughts. Time to peek around the Veil to get a glimpse of the beyond. We are meant for great things. Some marvel that it takes us twenty years to mature…perhaps it takes much more to prepare.

‘I have been hearing strange noises,’ Chet said. ‘Noise of hate and recriminations,’ he continued. ‘Noise suggesting money is the goal…the more you make the more you are blessed,’ Chet continued. ‘Apparently God is in the top five percent and judges his creation according to his financial goals,’ Chet laughed. ‘There are sounds of many voices…much like a hum or dull mechanized rhythm calling for the poor to be removed…put someone else out of sight…out of mind,’ Chet noted.

‘I hear the voice of people crying for mercy, justice…understanding,’ Neva J said. ‘They speak of the Christ of the Bible, his love for those forgotten,’ Neva J said softly. ‘They are quiet voices from quiet folks, introverted and brilliant,’ Neva J observed. ‘They are tired but unable to sleep; they have to stay awake…danger surrounds them,’ Neva J mused.

‘Voices muted by soft carpet and thick walls,’ Jane observed. ‘Soundproof rooms and locked doors,’ Jane said. ‘Rooms where the deals are made…mahogany desks and conference tables are where they sit, laughing at each other’s jokes…helping each other’s friends and family…they are members of the Friends and Family Club,’ Jane said sadly.

‘The sounds are horrible and humbling,’ Billy B noted. ‘Are they the sounds of people being hunted?’ Billy B asked. ‘It is Friday night…date night for many…time to say soft words and drink fine wine…there are strange sounds outside the restaurant…those inside can not hear the frightening sounds…the walls are thick…the carpet is plush…only the right people are allowed inside.

Night is falling. It catches you unaware. Not long ago were the halcyon evenings of sun till bedtime. Time for an evening swim. It seemed it would never end. It did. October has arrived. Night will rule for a time. It is good if you like it. I like it. Especially good if you have a flashlight. If not you  are in danger of stubbing your toe. No more evening swims in Pounds Hollow. No more catching fireflies in a jar and watching their light. Fireworks have been put in the cabinet.

‘We must make the most of October,’ Chet said with a grin. ‘This is our month…we are October People,’ Chet proclaimed. ‘Shall we explore the basement of the Orpheum Theatre…we shall see if the Halloween Costumes are there,’ Chet winked. ‘I remember Lanny going down into the Theatre basement last October and he has not returned,’ Chet noted with trepidation. ‘Some say he took a job out of town but I checked and the employer mentioned had never heard of him,’ Chet continued. ‘Lanny was a risk taker,’ Chet mused. ‘Lou told me one time when I asked about the Orpheum basement that you might get lost in it and never find your way out,’ Chet laughed.

‘It is a spooky place,’ Billy B observed. ‘It seems to be a lot of liminal space that continues endlessly,’ Billy B continued. ‘Follow me and take this rope I have with me to ensure we do not get lost,’ Billy B explained. ‘I hear people talking but I do not see them,’ Billy B noted with a quizzical look. ‘Come in this room is humongous,’ Billy B exclaimed. ‘It looks like the Orpheum Theatre when it was new,’ Billy B said. ‘This is a strange place,’ Billy B mused.

‘There is main street in the 40s with the cars of the decade…the storefronts…Christmas decorations draped across the street and listen to the Holiday music playing from somewhere,’ Jane said. ‘The rooms just keep connecting it seems everything above ground is being replicated in a fashion below ground,’ Jane observed. ‘Oh my goodness in here is Hillcrest School in 1962…there we are in Mrs. K’s first grade class,’ Jane shudders with fear. ‘We are in another world or universe…could it be that we are dreaming,’ Jane said.

‘Hello my friends,’ Lanny said with a wave. ‘When did you get here,’ Lanny continued. ‘I just came down here to look for the Halloween Costumes during the intermission and must get back upstairs to finish the movie Carnival Of Souls,’ Lanny smiled. ‘This place is fascinating and unexplained,’ Lanny observed. ‘At first it seemed a bit frightening now I feel right at home,’ Lanny laughed. ‘You know Carnival Of Souls just came out this year…1962…much of the movie reminds me of Town,’ Lanny laughed.

‘My God, you will not believe what is in this room…it is the Kennedy Assassination in Dallas…but all of the people look like a semblance of theirselves…like statues of horror,’ Neva J said.

Now we are in it. The Holiday Season is upon us. Our year is winding down. Time to break out the barrel for apple bobbing. Those who would have us believe we are helpless hopeless salt of the earth people who need guidance to get through our days are mistaken. We are people of the good earth. We have our back packs on and our walking sticks. We are ready for a subtle and significant change. The heat of the summer did not deter us. Seekers we are. Watching for the hidden truths of living well.

The Woods was quite filled with strange noises. Trees creak and groan in the wind if you listen to their conversation. The spell of the woods is encompassing. The baby turkeys are no longer babies. Mom Turkey has told them to be careful of hungry looking pilgrims. They can be seen with their muskets and big hats. They speak of the goodness of God and Turkey.

We enter the door of October bringing all of the memories of past Octobers. Nights of bonfires and ghost stories. Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman. The joys of Octoberfest. The fun and mystery of Trick Or Treating. Adults smiling more than the movie Smile. A combination of creepy and silly and joy. Halloween is cold and Halloween Costumes are thin. Shivers and Shadows. What was the Adult World really like? What did they know that they were keeping from us? There was a look behind their eyes whispers and laughs winks and nods. Neva J wanted to inspect the candy including the Pop Corn Balls. What were they looking for? Some big kids dressed up. Their costumes were not purchased at Ben Franklin Dime Store. Football players and their girlfriends…they always had girlfriends. Sounds of kids laughing for joy and sounds not easily identifiable.

The Old Man buys a houndstooth cap that is orange and black. It will be his Halloween Costume. When you are old you do not require much of a costume it comes with the product. He no longer has his plastic Jack-O-Lantern to collect candy. Wouldn’t the adults at the Halloween Doors smile broadly when they saw the Old Man with his Orange and Black Houndstooth cap and his plastic Jack-O-Lantern at their door!

October is coming. The month I arrived a long time ago. As a young child I could not conceive of my birth in 1957. I lived in the 60s and the 50s seemed remote. Looking back my environment was indeed 50s and 60s. I loved my desk in school. It was wooden and the desk top lifted to reveal a neat place to store my stuff. My own little office. School had good cold milk for free. I enjoyed milk. My earliest memories of living in Chicago were Leave It To Beaver memories. We lived on a well manicured street with nice houses lining both sides of the avenue. Everyone knew each other and the fellowship was rewarding. It seemed I was the apple of my parent’s eyes for a time.

The crisp air and holiday atmosphere was exciting. We moved from Sauk Village to Eldorado in the fall. The Victorian house we lived in was across the street from the High School. Dad and Uncle Bill sat on the long porch and watched the Eldorado Eagles play football under the lights. Those nights were cold as was the house with its fireplace in each room and a coal furnace in the basement. When I woke up each morning I did not want to get out from under the several quilts covering me.

October is the ideal fall month. Not to cold not winter. Refreshing and renewing as we asses the year and what it has brought. Halloween and costumes bought at the Ben Franklin Dime Store. A kid can be who ever they want to be for an evening. Popcorn Balls and apple cider sitting around the campfire telling tales and seeing shadows. The month for Frankenstein and Dracula and the Creature From The Black Lagoon. Ghosts around the corner in the Victorian Haunted House. ‘This Halloween we will have a party at Billy B’s Haunted House,’ Chet said. ‘It is rumored that the ghost of the former occupant lives in the basement,’ Chet continued. ‘The Brooks were rich in the Victorian Era and their house was magnificent,’ Chet noted. ‘Mr. Brooks traded on the Chicago Stock Exchange and traveled to Chicago weekly until his untimely death when the Stock Market crashed,’ Chet said with a sinister laugh. ‘Nellie lost her bearings and became a recluse after the patriarch’s death. ‘Nellie Brooks has been seen walking with a candle through the house at night,’Chet said. ‘It is said that she loved Halloween…and she is especially excited to hear that Brooks have moved into her house,’ Chet laughed and winked.

‘Welcome home Mr. Brooks,’ Nellie said with a smile. ‘I have been waiting for your return,’ Nellie noted with a wide smile. ‘I hope you recall when we purchased our honeymoon home,’ Nellie asked? ‘How are our stocks and bonds doing,’ Nellie danced. ‘Now that you are home again we will renovate the Old Vic,’ Nellie laughed.

October is knocking at the door. Time never sleeps. It is three weeks and three days to my birthday. Old age creeps up one day at a time. ‘Good news does good like medicine but a broken spirit drys the bones.’ When you have a burden lifted joy takes over. As we travel the rocky curvy hilly road of life sometimes around the next corner is a blessing. When the burden is lifted and the yoke is off your neck you feel like singing. From time to time you get a glimpse of the Hidden Hand.

In another life I did some church speaking. I am a lifelong reluctant speaker yet have often felt the Hidden Hand help me in these times. Knowing you are not up to the task is a golden time for help. Humility is rare and precious.

Writing is a craft I enjoy. I enjoy sitting before my laptop and letting the words flow. Some results are a bit better than others. When the Hidden Hand helps the story writes itself.

Not everything is by chance. Angels are watching. We are a great experiment. Our ideas thoughts motives are written down and examined. What did we do with our talents or time our passion? How often we speak when it is time to listen. A need to fill up the silent moments with speech. A need to be heard for our accumulation of ideas.

‘She was sick she fought valiantly she put others before herself,’ Neva J said. ‘If you were hungry she fed you if you needed clothing she clothed you…when asked how she was doing she always said the same thing…the angels have their hands on me,’ Neva J said.

‘I woke up for many days wondering what would happen next,’ Chet mused. ‘It seemed my life had been decided for me without my input,’ Chet continued. ‘Time changes things,’ Chet laughed.

In Seinfeld Mr. Pitt is looking for an assistant who has grace. ‘You don’t have grace. You can’t have some grace. You either have grace or you don’t, Mr. Pitt tells Elaine. So, there we have it. In Seinfeld World grace was part of a checklist for a job. ‘When a person has grace, they show deep kindness, patience, and elegance in how they treat others and handle difficult situations.’ Grace is what you feel when you have made a mistake and it is not held against you. Grace is the humility of knowing we are not always right. Grace is compassion for others.

Billy B made a ruckus. He liked to stir the pot. He enjoyed chaos. Billy B was a little imp. He had learned his nefarious ways as the product of a broken home. Dad left and Mom worked two jobs to put bread on the table. As a cry for help Billy B sought attention through his bizarre behavior. He knew it was wrong and wondered if anyone cared to notice. So often whatever he did went unchallenged. He is a bad seed the old folks said. Born on the wrong side the product of his genes. ‘He will never amount to anything,’ Dad said. ‘I talk to the boy but he does not listen,’ Dad continued. ‘His mother has turned him against me,’ Dad mused.

‘I cannot respond in kind to bullies,’ Chet said. ‘Why do they call hurtful names and make fun of simple speech,’ Chet asked? ‘Pastor Meg says for us to give of the abundance that God has given us,’ Chet continued. ‘I see not fault in my brothers and sisters, they are like me…we all have our shortcomings,’ Chet offered. ‘How did Jesus on the cross tell the thief that today thou shalt be with me in paradise,’ Chet asked? ‘How did Christ say, ‘Father forgive them for they know what they do,’ Chet noted. ‘How can we sit down with our perceived enemies and break bread…understand each other…empathize with each other? ‘We are beat down but not destroyed, irrational hate has harmed us, childish name calling and lies have separated us, we will rise above petty grievances and achieve our noble calling,’ Chet proclaimed!

‘I have never seen such a long table,’ Neva J said. ‘Seated are Trump and Biden…Obama and Bush…all of the Congress and Senate the Supreme Court and at the head of the table are the poor the marginalized the voiceless the forgotten,’ Neva J noted with tears in her eyes. ‘I have not seen a table laid for so many differing views of life and yet so happy,’ Neva J laughed. ‘We are so much more alike than we are different,’ Neva J observed. ‘We have fought over triviality personal biases mistakes on all sides,’ Neva J observed. ‘It is time for some grace,’Neva J said with a dance.

‘It was a compelling story,’Chet said. ‘There was adventure surprise and sorrow in the first chapter,’ Chet continued. ‘The characters did not fully understand the plot until they looked back and were able to see it in its entirety,’ Chet observed. ‘What seemed to be story ending often was a plot point progressing the story forward,’ Chet smiled. ‘Some stories are 200 pages while others are 1000,’ Chet laughed. ‘We hunger to read ahead to see if the boy gets the girl or if the wicked step mother steps in,’ Chet winked. ‘Will the hard working parents get the kids raised and then the kids turn around and raise the elderly parents,’ Chet asked? ‘Is Trump the beginning of the end or the end of the beginning,’ Chet postulated. ‘The truth is none of us know because we are characters of the narrative and we have not received our lines for tomorrow’s performance,’ Chet danced.

‘How long has it been…nearly 30 years and you still remember me,’ Billy B marveled. ‘I am touched and think of those halcyon days when we were finding our way out of our last century into our new century, ‘ Billy B said. ‘Life appeared challenging then…it became more challenging soon after,’ Billy B mused. ‘There was much of the story to be told and we were in the middle for some of us and the beginning for others,’ Billy B winked. ‘Things that looked certain were not and things looking uncertain were steady,’ Billy B noted. ‘When you look back on life it makes sense while when you look forward it is a mystery,’ Billy B smiled. ‘The smallest of characters in the story may play the largest roles,’ Billy B admonished.

‘So, we moved from the city to the country…believing it was for one reason while another benefit grew out of the change,’ Neva J said. ‘It is hard to read the next page until the author reveals it,’ Neva J said. ‘At times things look bleak until you read a few pages more only to find the bleakest time was the point of change for the better,’ Neva J laughed. ‘Our Story is magnificent in that it is our Story,’ Neva J sang and danced.

‘I have a special treat for you my friend,’ said the Storywriter. ‘I am going to release to you the tallies of your Story for your perusal,’ the Storywriter continued. ‘When you read it from beginning to end your anxiety will subside and joy will fill your heart,’ the Storywriter noted. ‘When you return to your home the future will become foggy but friendly and you will sleep easy for the special experience of your early reading,’ the Storywriter winked.

I was listening to former President Obama and Tom Hanks talk of parenthood faith and how it changes as we get older. One of their perspectives was that things look different the closer you get to the end of your life. I reflected we are so different yet so alike. We notice the little things more realizing they are the big things. Good food good friends…laughing till our sides hurt. How the sun looks at sunset. How good a good cup of coffee is.

The old movies were called Flicks. The movie projectors of that time made a flicking sound as the frames soared by. Such are the days of our lives. If we do not look quick they are gone memories. When MJ and I saw Seinfeld perform last Saturday night I thought of how life had changed since his show was first run on television in the 90s. When we entered the 90s the decade seemed so mysterious much as the cartoon The Jetsons. It was the last decade of the century. I had not considered that I probably would be a person who would live in two centuries. I remember watching a Seinfeld episode in the hotel on our Great Western Vacation and thinking how much I enjoyed the series. When Seinfeld concluded its run I collected the four TV Guide covers with a Seinfeld main character on the front of each. TV Guide was a collectible magazine in its day…just ask Frank Costanza.

Understanding each other is a long road. Our life experiences bring us to different conclusions. Understanding comes from active listening. Listening with no agenda to speak. Listening like you do with your favorite pet to understand their rhythms and rhymes.

The sun is setting over the trees on the far side of the pond. The trees have a golden hue against the pale blue sky. The Bullfrog Quartet is practicing their Friday Night Concert. They are in good voice. They know fall is here. Sounds good to them. The Bullfrogs have a sense of place. They notice the little things. The little things are their reason for singing. Life is a magical dance in the moonlight. There is a bit of fairy dust on our shoulders as we wake up each morning. We have a special joy when we think of the journey, we are going home.

‘It is another made to order fall day,’ Chet said. ‘This is the time when I want to read write and think great thoughts,’ Chet continued. ‘Great people have great thoughts,’ Chet mused. ‘President Kennedy said, ‘Ask not what your country can do for you but what you can do for your country,’ Chet quoted. ‘Not how much money can I make,’ Chet observed. ‘I would love to ask JFK what he would have done had he not been assassinated,’ Chet proclaimed. ‘Many in that day believed he was destined for greatness,’ Chet said softly. ‘We believed he was cut down by the assassins bullet before he could achieve his mission, Chet noted. ‘Does your antique floor length magic mirror still work,’ Chet asked Neva J?

‘Yes, let us go to November 21, 1963 and talk with him in Texas,’ Neva J suggested. ‘We will go to the Hotel Texas Suite 850 in Ft. Worth where he and the First Lady were resting,’ Neva J said. ‘Jackie accompanied him to Dallas although she did not enjoy campaigning,’ Neva J continued. ‘President Kennedy had been cautioned to not go to Dallas but felt he must for the upcoming Presidential Election,’ Neva J explained. ‘Kennedy had been well received by the crowds gathered to cheer for him and shake hands with the First Lady,’ Neva J mentioned.

‘Mr. President, there are three people from the future who would like a few minutes with you to hear your plans for the remainder of your term,’ Secret Service Agent Cliff Hill said. ‘They say they are from 2026 and they cannot reveal anything about the future,’ Agent Hill noted. ‘They look like regular folks,’ Agent Hill smiled.

‘Welcome come in,’ President Kennedy said. ‘Are you with a news outlet in Ft. Worth,’ Kennedy asked? ‘Jackie and I have visited with several today,’ Kennedy smiled his winning smile. ‘If you are from the future what is it like 63 years from now,’ Kennedy gently inquired. ‘As for my plans for the remainder of my term and hopefully as second term I want to end the war in Vietnam,’ Kennedy said. ‘We must learn to live in peace…’we all breathe the same air we all love our children’, Kennedy said with confidence. ‘Some of my advisors are lying to me and when I return to D.C. I am going to deal with their removal and replacement,’ Kennedy winked. ‘Remember the Bay of Pigs…what a fiasco,’ Kennedy said with emphasis. ‘We are a great country and are unworthy of lies by politicians,’ Kennedy leaned back in his special rocking chair that he had brought to Texas from the Oval Office due to his bad back. ‘I have seen first hand what war can do and I do not want it…we can be better,’ Kennedy noted with calm assurance. ‘Tell me a little about the future,’ Kennedy laughed.

‘Do not go to Dallas…you will be assassinated…Lyndon will become President…the War in Vietnam will continue for years…thousands will die,’ Neva J said.

‘Our trip to Texas changed everything,’ Jane said. ‘Trump did not become President,’ Jane continued. ‘We did not lose confidence in our Presidents or government truth became common and service essential to politics,’ Jane danced on one foot and then the other. ‘JFK is our longest living President at 109 and he still sails,’ Jane laughed.

Last week the temperature was 100, today it is 68. Fall is here. A gloomy cloud covered day, my kind of weather. Jonathon and I are enjoying a cup of coffee. Coffee is good in the fall. Everything is good in the fall. Thoughts of life and our place in it. Hope that lifts us up and carries us forward. Peace you can feel. The birds are traveling. They stop by Brooks Pond. Tired from the flight but not home yet. The little boy is walking his dog. His class did not get to go out today for recess. He did not like that. The Old Man ordered a Fontanini Nativity piece yesterday and received it today. Quick turn around. I saw a dear lady at church the other day. I considered how sweet she was an angel on earth. Today she went home.

We think about what is before our eyes. If it is crude brusque insipid we feel the world is a bad place. ‘As a man thinks so is he.’ We must lift our eyes to the hills and sky. So much more is right than wrong.

The days are getting shorter…faster. Things seem new for the old. A revelation for the senses and a realization that all has not been learned. Surrounded by beauty and never seeing it. Held by joy and never feeling it. Spoken to by angels and having difficulty hearing.

There he was first grade. It was chilly walking to school. The boy hoped mom would be fine on her own until he returned. They raised each other. The bulletin board was full of pumpkins, ghosts, a witch on a broom with a funny smile. Everyone was all a twitter about their lives and what was coming next. Bonfires and hayrides, roasting marshmallows and candy corn. Scary movies Frankenstein and Dracula. Must purchase a Halloween Costume at Ben Franklin Dime Store. There were a lot of costumes. You could be anything on Halloween. The sky was the limit. The boy bought a JFK mask and costume which was an image of a man wearing a suit and tie on a flimsy cloth that covered your front and tied behind your neck like a hospital gown. The boy understood hospital gowns. He had been in the hospital. People laughed and called him Mr. President as they placed candy in his plastic Jack-O-Lantern.

Choices, which do you choose? It is good to have choices. We have many. Choices lead us to our sense of place. Who we are is a culmination of our choices. The path of acceptance is a good road. The little boy found that to be true many years ago. He was a bit afraid the first day of school he did not know anyone no one knew him. The girl sitting next to him had lovely blonde hair and seemed serene. Teacher asked the girl if she needed to visit the restroom? She nodded and as she left the room he noticed a puddle of liquid under her desk. We often appear to be put together and ready to rumble but inside we are in distress.