Thanksgiving eve; books, both read and being written; flickering candles, and music from Dublin--the gift of travel seems to find its way into each day.

Rain off and on, wonderful big clouds, grey, gray, dark grey, black, patch of blue (what we used to call a "sucker hole" -- lures you out into the woods so you can get soaked), wind--a flight of south bound geese this morning were heard more than seen, only a fleeting glimpse high, honking, and southerly oriented.  Once more we longed to go with them.  One dipped its wings as it passed.  We didn't know which of us it was for.

I am thankful for the running I have done this year.  The friends we got to see again.  A friend I won't see again.  The strangers we met that became new friends. Some of the days turned precious, more precious than the Wall Streeter's cry of "priceless."

We now have a great grandchildren.  The candles flicker, I hope  brightly for them and the light they bring into the world.  Our world needs a few more bright candles.

A hauntingly lovely voice sang as we walked around the bookstore.  We listened to my new CD on the way home.  I don't know if it fit the wind or if the wind fit it--my ignorance grows more vivid with each passing fall, almost to match the leaves as they depart the branches and float to ground.

We have read books, shared trails, enjoyed each other's company (for the most part) here in cyberland as another year winds down.

The new moon barely shines through the window competing with the candle on my desk, somehow the incongruence of candle, moon, keyboard, CD, and the Internet meld into this...

Thankful again.

Run gently out there.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Had a nice holiday lunch today.  Tofu soup with rice and a bit of kimche, the soup is spicy as hell, great stuff.

Happy Thanksgiving to you, John, and everyone, whether you're spending it with family, friends, football, fur-babies or your own company.