The kaleidoscope season is here... Talking about summer in the past tense always seems to happen too fast, and as much as I like reflecting the heat of a July day off of my own perspiring sheen, there's just something about flannel. Must be a North Country thing, eh? The mornings bring a tinge with them now, that little bite of refreshing chill. And it feels kinda good. Go walk in the woods, breathe deep, and tell me that doesn't make you smile. Stand there awhile. Listen to the chickadees. Watch a bright orange maple leaf on a fast-twitch, zigzag descent; let it hit you in the cheek (tick, crinkle), glance off your arm and land at your feet. You just saw the last chapter of a beautiful, moving, silent, life story.  


When enough leaves fall, drop and make leaf angels (good practice for winter). Grab a kid (your own or borrow a neighbor's) and wander a fall festival and drink apple cider and eat caramel apples and apple pie. Corn on the cob and candy corn. The world is all reds and golds, frosty mornings and evening campfires. Throw on your hiking boots, hop on the bike, stretch out on a park bench. Let another leaf land.