The Old Man woke up on September Morn. He waited for this experience all year. He likes it all, but he loves the BER Months. No hint of fall yet. Ninety-eight degrees. Heat Dome. He did not request a Dome of any kind. A butterfly was his friend in the Woods this morning. The butterfly would not leave. B. Fly knew the Old Man liked his company.

Leaves were falling on this first of September. The Woods understands what time it is. The baby turkeys have grown. They are excited to be in the world. The Song of the Fall is beginning. It is a pleasant song that hearkens back to precious memories. The Bible says that all the trees of the field will clap their hands.

Why do we choose to believe lies when we are surrounded by truth? Joy, peace, hope, and love are our companions if our eyes are not diverted by gold, greed, and bias. We humans, tend to create our own reality a bit with brick and mortar and golden statues. Cities where the skyscrapers reach to Heaven and block the sky.

‘Why worry about tomorrow?’ Guardian Angel said. ‘You have clothes, food, and a place to lay your head,’ Guardian Angel continued. ‘ Did you help to raise the Sun this morning?’ Guardian Angel noted. ‘Mr. Butterfly worries not yet is cared for,’ Guardian Angel winked. ‘Humanity wants what it does not possess and when gained is still disappointed,’ Guardian Angel laughed. ‘Whatever your name is affixed to is not yours; vanity and vexation of spirit,’ Guardian Angel said.

We are happy dust. A spirit inside a clay jar. We know better; we have been better; our real home is better; we remember and weep for our childish ways. How does a man begin as a baby, grow and become a baby again?

The door to happiness, fulfillment, and a sense of place we walk through each morning. We rise from our bed with our magnificent reconstituted body of Dust to meet the day. The mystery is what can be done with Spirit and Dust!