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 when the deer
have scraped and polished the velvet off their antlers and sharpened
them against trees so they can be in perfect shape for the rut and
the fighting.
Fall is when the trees, in their autumn mini-deaths, put on a
display of color that makes us glad to be alive and dreaming of
treasures and perfection.
Fall is when we have our festivals, so the harvest can be shown
off and shared, and we can look at each other and say, "Hey, was
your summer good? Great to see the kids back in school again, isn't
it? How do you think the football team will do this year?"
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Fall is when we do more than just worry about how we're going to
cool off, and we think of mountains and tents and a fire to stare
into with friends at the end of a wonderful day.
And fall is when we think of ways we can perfect ourselves a
little bit more, too. Hey, winter's coming on. Should we learn a new
language? Take a course at the college? Should we start planning a
spring trip?
Fall is what we get for being good all year.
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
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