November: When the Leaves are Crisp, but the Air is more so!

Black Lentil, Sweet Potato & Cranberry Soup, anyone?

The more skeletal our trees become, the more our souls seem to lighten. On the trails, it feels as if we are about to float. The forest always enchants, but during these two months between the last maple leaves and the first heavy snows, the woodland realm has the intimacy of a lover. There are no secrets between us, no clothing or make-up. We get exactly what we see and tend to feel the forest more in this short season. There is a comfort and a long-nurturing memory in this.

A few years back, when I knew I was on the knife edge of life and death, I could not speak well due to my stroke-mouth. My mind went this way and that with bouts of hallucinations. But I recall an unusual clarity while laying in my hospital bed, hooked up to oxygen and too many tubes and wires, debating whether to stay in this world or surrender to the next.

Of course, I needed to get home for Atticus because he was also sick and needed me. But in a selfish but suddenly lucid thought, I decided, "I'll never see a…