A Perfect Autumn Day

Thursday, November 3,2016 Today there was no wind. Everything was still and in its proper place. The air we breathed was abundant summer air, even though the calendar insisted it was already November. The sun spread its light evenly across a cloudless sky, and its warmth descended gently to envelop us. The sky itself was an immense pane of purest glass, which hovered over us like an immense window into the Cosmos... But Galactic Things and their huge scale were far from my thoughts. I focused on small things of immediate wonder, things close enough touch and smell, as commonplace as flowers turning toward the sun, or birds asserting their territories with songs... Late in the afternoon I arrived at SALEM HILLS PARK, named after a nearby church, an old building from one hundred years ago, with its adjacent cemetery. With images of church and cemetery, my walk assumed the character of a pilgrimage, a focused journey with people of similar purpose and drive - Friends! What are friends if not companions of our mortal journey through time to a destination common to all mortals. Thus, are we all pilgrims, each with a special trait: some a sense of direction, others a sense of purpose, still others with keen memories to recall events, and those bold, confident few who tell when we must change direction or purpose and renew the journey. Yeats already spoke for all of us: SAY MY GLORY WAS I HAD SUCH FRIENDS. They swirl around me even now: Sonya and Robert in Minneapolis, my sister and her family, my aunt and uncle, Rosie and Bob, Paul at Lyngblomsten, Rosemary in Portland, Liza in St. Petersburg. Soon after I finish my litany, shafts of darkness pierced the woods, and I hastened my steps. As I drove home, night completely enveloped this perfect Autumn day.