Fall Has Fell

I love this time of year, with the leaves finally showing their true colors in one blazing flash before turning brown and curling into the fetal(fatal?) position. Everywhere, the smell of leaf fires and the scrape of rakes on lawns signals the start of Autumn. Deer hunters in these parts are finding new and creative ways to ready themselves and their submerged deerstands for the gun season. My wife and I were in the woods earlier today to retrieve some rope from our johnboat which was tied up on the 4-wheeler trail to our deerstands. The river and her backwaters have taken over the woods where we usually hunt, so plans are under way to hunt the 'highland deer' this year. Oh well, the ducks ought to be happy.

I spent some time talking and visiting with good friends from Helena last night, both writers and storytellers. It is good to absorb some of the excitement and energy of other writers who truly love what they do. It reminds me of why I started to write in the first place--to share the thrill of storytelling with others. You can write and write and keep it hidden, and in the end, you have denied not only others the benefits of your work, but you have denied yourself the opportunity to receive input and feedback from others who care. I'm always fired up about writing after a good meeting/discussion with other writers.

I survived one more year of growth today. I turned 56 on Veterans' Day, and I don't feel a day over 76! Inside, where the REAL me lives, I feel like I'm 16 and scribbling three-page short stories on spiral notebook paper for my friends to read at lunch. As long as the REAL me keeps feeling like that, I'll keep on writing.

In honor of veterans everywhere, here's a short poem:


Veterans

On a bench
by the war memorial they sit,
stiff as stone—
two old men,
feeling the same as they did
on the ship heading home
all those years ago—
just happy to be here.




Thank you, Veterans!