Beyond the massive caloric intake that this day represents in America, Thanksgiving is traditionally a day for gratitude – to be thankful for what we have. And we have a lot, beginning with being alive. So BE alive and make the most of the day at hand, no matter where you live. Move a bit today to earn those calories. Help a few others not as fortunate as you while you do that living. Be bold, but humble. We’re all in this together.
Happy Thanksgiving from New Hampshire.
The deep orange sky at 4 AM was largely faded by 5 AM. What kind of world is this that 5 AM is too late in the day for the show? It’s the price of the longer days of June. You want the full show? Get up earlier. And I’ve learned another lesson in my…
There’s more to do, surely, before we go. But enough is enough. Lists are checked and then confirmed again. Having set one bird to fly it’s time to fly again myself. And I’m ready. “Who can guess the impatience of stone longing to be ground down, to be part again of something livelier?” – Mary…
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are oneDrying in the colour of the evening sunTomorrow’s rain will wash the stains awayBut something in our minds will always stay— Sting, Fragile Pushing snow off a driveway in an active snowstorm is an act in futility, displayed for all to see in the snowflakes quickly…
We shall not cease from explorationAnd the end of all our exploringWill be to arrive where we startedAnd know the place for the first time.Through the unknown, unremembered gateWhen the last of earth left to discoverIs that which was the beginning;At the source of the longest riverThe voice of the hidden waterfallAnd the children in…
“November retained its name (from the Latin novem meaning “nine”) when January and February were added to the Roman calendar.” – Wikipedia And there it is: November. I’ve wondered about October before. I mean, “octo” is eight yet October was the tenth month. I hadn’t thought much about the origin of November until I stared…
A monk sips morning tea,it’s quiet,the chrysanthemum’s flowering.— Matsuo Bashō The mornings are chilly again, and unlike Bashō’s poem, full of the sounds of squirrels gathering food and bickering about who gets what. The water is warmer than the air, for the sun is reluctant to stick around so long nowadays. The seasons are flipping,…