There is no yesterday and no tomorrow, only today. Only now I sit and look at the miracle named Autumn. Content with itself, the Mountain dressed up in magical colors. The green tops are playing with orange, yellow and red bottoms. Silence is occasionally interrupted by the whispering of dry grass. A busy groundhog is looking around from a spot in the middle of the medley and moving to its edge. The merry birds are wondering about the impossibly blue sky, not knowing where to go. Every direction promises happiness.
What is it, this happiness? The warm sunny air in which for some reason the smell of dry leaves is mixed with the smell of wild strawberry. The large bushy mountain lasts and lasts, in time and space. It has seen a lot, this mountain. It learned patience, it reflects wisdom, it IS. It carries the same truth that a sweet sleeping child does. Although the latter has more tenderness about him, maybe because he is mine.
Once again the face of the Happy Autumn looks through the golden leaves of the Big Maple Tree that stares at the same blue sky. And there is no doubt in the presence of God and the Universe– right here.