Glory

"From the train, Massachusetts," Tim Connor, All rights reserved

Early tomorrow I'm leaving for western Massachusetts. Many of you know but for those of you who don't, the color transformation of the trees in the eastern North American autumn is one of the wonders of the world. In the many years I was away from it I was always surprised at how much I longed for it . I eventually understood that the New England autumn was for me a kind of touchstone -- the season & the place where my life's great ur fantasy of perfection resides.

On Sunday I'll wake up there on my 60th birthday.

Here's a lighthearted poem by Emily Dickinson in celebration.

AUTUMN.
The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.

Happy autumn! See you in a few days.