OLD LEAVES

When I consider my range of moods I feel quite blessed. I realize that many people live more restricted lives. I also recognize that some people have extended their range far beyond mine! How wonderful for them. When I listen to Elvis sing "Flaming Star" it makes me remember that Brandon didn't have much time for making his dreams come true. Perhaps his dreams will be realized in Lamaya. We are under a gray sky heavy with rain... again. The overcast of dark clouds cause the red willow to shine along the fringe of dreary sticks thrust up from sodden ditches. Mae S. wrote about fan mail she'd received concerning her ANGER. "Writing it I learned a lot about myself... and it looks as though the readers, too, are being led to self-realization." The house has a nice smell. The wood stacked against the wall waiting to warm the Red Shed first fills the room with perfume of cedar. Outside the blue smoke of the wood stove offers another good smell. I went out to gather sticks to dry for kindling and the fragrance of old leaves rose up to greet me. A lovely sky smiled over me in the early evening and invited me to enjoy a rose-lit stroll. I almost declined the gracious invitation. But soon enough I'll be shuffling down the hall at the old folk's home in shoes with sticky soles. Today I will pull on my socks and slip into my boots for one more walk into another glorious sunset.