Birthday Thoughts

In November, at winter’s gate, the stars are brittle. The sun is a sometime friend. And the world has tucked her children in, with a kiss on their heads, till spring.
                                                             from In November
                                                               by Cynthia Rylant
       I’m not much of a list maker, except for the short term do-list and a grocery list if I need more than five items. (That’s a memory thing. I like to know I can remember at least five fairly unrelated items.) So this post will not be a bucket list or a did-list or a list of resolutions. I won’t give you a catalog of accomplishments.
       November is my birthday month. I share my day with a former student, a former co-worker and the mother of a close friend. My niece and the husband of another close friend celebrated birthdays yesterday.
       Abraham Lincoln delivered his Gettysburg Address on my birthday. Actually the Address came first!
       I never held Autumn as my favorite season. All the symbolism seemed too real. Names of nursing homes and retirement homes like Autumn Acres and Autumn Hills and Autumn Woods remind me of the Long Sleep on my horizon.
       But, sleep is necessary. In autumn, the trees wear themselves out in their blazes of color and then rest. Squirrels frantically bury nuts they may or may not be able to find. Bears eat so much that they acquire an extra layer of fat so they can rest all winter. There is much flurry before the quiet time.
       I've gained an appreciation of Autumn--a busy time before a quiet time. I’ll spend my birthday doing something new. I’ll make a list of what I want to accomplish, try, learn about. Winter will be quiet, and cozy.
       Happy Birthday Sarah, Tommy, Jason, Joey and Mrs. Little.                                                                           --stay curious!