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Monday, September 28, 2020

 I woke up Sunday morning to get ready for what's become a regular Sunday meeting with my beer-drinking buddies.

But before doing my daily cleaning, I decided to take some time and be mindful.

I had a chaos dream just that morning, where I had control over nothing and every time I said that to people, I was given more tasks. That's similar to being a newspaper editor but in conscious life, I have more control than in subconscious dreams.

My heart was pounding.

Fall was in the air as the green of summer begins to die and decompose.

On the front deck of the Hermitage, I watched the yellow leaves from the canopy that surrounds the property fall like rain. My colleague Laura Lane once planted some herbs in a window box at the place but they never grew because of the tree coverage.

Now that the humidity has broken, the breeze off the lake can be felt through the trees -- the air carrying the scent of the leaves and the critters among them.

I've been watching this lazy squirrel over the last couple of weeks. He grabs nuts that fall on to the front deck with a "WHACK" sound and then uses the back deck to get into his tree without crawling up the trunk. Lazy bastard.

Last week I saw a new snake, a baby with yellow circles around him down his body. Baby snake implies mama snake so I increased my pace as much as I could.

When I drove down the remote, gravel rode to go see my friends, I felt as though I were driving into an ancient chapel but instead of a ceiling of murals, the canopy was was of intense oranges and reds, yellows, greens and browns.

I love fall when the cornfields turn to a golden rod color and when the soybean tops turn yellow. That's going to be some good eating for someone soon.

Then I walked into my Sunday watering hole, friends with smiles on their faces, genuinely happy to see me.

Oh, and the beer was pretty good.

Homeless editor?


Lucky man?

Goddamn straight.

Peace and mindfulness unto all of you my brothers and sisters.

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