It is a lovely September day. There is a cool breeze with a slight drizzle. I saw a beaver planning dam construction. He was like most beavers I have witnessed—busy.

The Race is upon us each day. We are a bit of a juggler, enjoy puzzles, and are community planners. We are like the beaver planning our next dam construction. Life is a marathon, not a sprint

It is good to be in the race. On the sidelines lurk shadows of doubt. We would race but many are better. Racing is fun until you get tired. On the sidelines are Cotton Candy and Thin Mints. Everyone understands we have a sweet tooth. We will begin tomorrow. Tomorrow is a new day. Joy cometh in the morning.

The wily Hare passes us and laughs. At times he runs circles around us. We see him napping as we pass. His hammock looks inviting. Mental health and emotional readiness ebb and flow. We roll the stone up the mountain. It rolls back down. Sisyphus cheers us on from the sidelines. He says for us to not give up the joy is in the journey. The manifestation of success is in the mission. Life is an Exercise. A preparation for what comes next. Looking through a glass darkly to peer into the Secret.

Busy Beaver contemplates the beginning of the new project. The Dam will hold back discontent anger hate and violence. Many are required for the Race. Recruitment has been good from the sidelines. Joy is in the air…

The Little Locomotive says, ‘I think I can…I think I can…I think I can…I know I can…I know I can…I know I can…’

Mr. Turtle is at the Finish Line. Mr. Turtle smiles broadly. He beckons the racers to cross the finish line pick up a trowel and build the Great Dam against suffering…

Kind words come easy in the fall. It is not hot. Fun is on the calendar. Hope surrounds us. The Calendar Makers knew we needed something to look forward to and lift our spirits as the weather turned to winter. You need something to stir your imagination as you sit by the fire. First, you chop the wood for the fire then you light it. Fire warms you twice. Once we hunted for our food, now… we pick it up at the market. Market items are delivered to our front door.

Our state of being is a bit unnatural. Social we are. Fear-loathing and COVID keep us apart. Trust is in short supply. Until the falling brilliantly colored leaves begin to rest at our feet. We see the diversity of nature. The settled calm of our Earth. The crisp autumn breeze whispers it is alright. ‘No worries here…what you crying about man,’ Fall tells us.

It is difficult to worry when on a hayride. The horses are clomping the apple cider is stimulating and make-believe is in the air. Elections fade into the mist of harvest and quieting of our home. Things change slowly. Hopes prayers and wishes are granted incrementally.

Make-believe is good. Fantasy and fairy tale gnomes and leprechauns reveal unseen worlds. There is much to know and little seen by earthly eyes.

Santa Claus warms our hearts as he has for hundreds of years. There is something beneath the veil. Shadows of worlds universes and realities unknown. The Raven flies high above us…how do we look to him or her?

Trees grow through the clouds and their roots extend deep into the Earth. They are settled and secure… seen it all. They know the Secret we humans seek. Imagination is imperative in understanding Glad Tidings…

Here again is the kick-off to the ‘Ber’ months. It is a day I look forward to, it seems far off at times. Life is like the mileage counter on your automobile; it just keeps turning over. I am reminded of Labor Days in the past. For a time we attended a Denominational Convention over the Labor Day weekend and Monday after the closing service was a long drive home from Tennessee. I smiled I knew that cool weather was just ahead.

On two separate occasions, we stayed in hotels where the Jerry Lewis Telethon was happening live. This was significant as I watched the Lewis Telethon For Muscular Dystrophy each Labor Day. In Des Moines, Iowa we were at Howard Johnsons. They were known for their seafood. I had clams.

Labor Day was the door to Autumn Opportunities. Aaron and my birthdays with a lovely meal to commemorate them. A couple of Dirty Martinis for me and on my birthday three. Grey Goose Dirty Martinis for the birthday splurge. After the first I become philosophical. I see so many possibilities and reflect on the love of family.

MJ and I joined our friends Jo Ann and Peter for birthday celebrations. Peter and my birthdays were in October. They were great fun especially when Peter imitated Jo Ann’s Dog’s howl when she and Peter drove close to where Jo Ann was after not seeing her for a while. Peter taught me about good vodka. His smile expanded with every drink…

Life is good in the fall. Hope is at its zenith. All is right with the world. I saw some folks buying all the pumpkins their truck bed would hold. I wondered if they were recreating ‘Its The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.’

A brisk warm wind and it was over. Carefree days with barbecue beer and brats. No coats jackets or windbreakers. Memorial Day was the beginning 4th of July the middle and now Labor Day. Was it a dream?

Vacation and multiple holidays are in store. Cooler weather is nice. I like sweaters. Some of us are meant for cool climes. The smell of fresh Autumn air. Leaves in multiple colors. A different world. Slowing down and introspective. Weather is conducive to reflection. Fall causes a treatise on the year that is winding up. There were many good days few bad ones. It was new yesterday in January. Hopes and dreams to be had. Fears to be banished.

Advent is coming in the autumn and winter. Christ is on his way. He renews our hope. We give each other gifts of joy. The Bringer Of Peace is coming to our troubled world. In our land, he comes in the winter. The Wisemen bring the Baby Jesus gifts. We do not know what else to do. We are overwhelmed with the Gift. We must commemorate. We must acknowledge this. He loves the shepherds and the Wisemen. He was born in a barn surrounded by animals. They felt his love for them.

Ichabod Crane and the headless horseman. Bobbing for apples. Smoke curled his head like a wreath. Tiny Tim Bob Cratchit and Scrooge.

A Taste Of Maine will be the first stop. Lobster every day. A slower pace. Ocean view. Unique architecture. Lighthouses everywhere. Thoughts of another life. Choices are plentiful. Laughter tears of joy too much life for the time allotted…