He Who Travels West Travels Not Only

Two Sounds Of Autumn Are Unmistakable...the Hurrying Rustle Of Crisp Leaves Blown Along The Street...by A Gusty Wind, And The Gabble Of A Flock Of Migrating Geese.

A Woodland In Full Color Is Awesome As A Forest Fire, In Magnitude At Least, But A Single Tree Is Like A Dancing Tongue Of Flame To Warm The Heart.

I Grew Up In Those Years When The Old West Was Passing And The New West Was Emerging. It Was A Time When We Still Heard Echoes And Already Saw Shadows, On Moonlit Nights When The Coyotes Yapped On The Hilltops, And On Hot Summer Afternoons When Mirages Shimmered, Dust Devils Spun Across The Flats, And Towering Cumulus Clouds Sailed Like Galleons Across The Vast Blueness Of The Sky. Echoes Of Remembrance Of What Men Once Did There, And Visions Of What They Would Do Together.

Nature Seems To Look After Her Own Only Up To A Certain Point; Beyond That They Are Supposed To Fend For Themselves.

Weekend Planning Is A Prime Time To Apply The Deathbed Priority Test: On Your Deathbed, Will You Wish You'd Spent More Prime Weekend Hours Grocery Shopping Or Walking In The Woods With Your Kids?