It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. I was at the annual arts and crafts festival held in the Otis Library in Norwich, our unofficial community center for a city of forty-two thousand, that is cleverly entitled "O'tis A Festival." But wait, there's more!
Actually, I'm teasing-there really isn't that much more as it was just a one day event but community turnout was terrific and it was a great reason to get some fresh air on a glorious late fall day in New England where the only thing bluer than Tea Party Republicans who ten days ago thought they'd be rearranging furniture in the White House were the skies over The Rose of New England.
As a kid, I hurried through the seasons. When our children were smaller, this time of year was magic and now that it's more often than not just me and the missus, I'm learning to enjoy every sandwich as Warren Zevon suggested and to not miss what I do not have. Trees have lost their leaves and nature is preparing itself for the next season.
Winter is approaching and it's a time of the year I dread, but not so much as I once did. Perhaps I'm finally growing up. More likely, I'm just growing old. But my journey of change continues as does yours. Perhaps we'll pass one another somewhere along the path.