Another cloudy, muted Fall morning. It seems just as much as October was bright blue and sunny, November has been grey and damp. That's good, right? It was to dry here for the first two months we moved in. Now it's not too, too wet, but certainly less crunchy. The leaves don't crunch. The twigs fallen on the ground bend but don't snap, and the worms on the sidewalks are alive and not mummified.
It's hard to believe it's Thursday already. The excitement of election day seemed to blur together Monuesednsday into one long smear. The daily cycle is settling back down now a bit as we transition into deep Fall and others transition in and out of Washington DC offices. The guessing game and the name dropping are the next chapter in the DC electoral ring cycle that repeats itself every two or four years (depending how attuned you are to political chattering).
I assume the Obama transition team has a plan and will stick to it. It's their way. I imagine there will be quite a few emptying houses and apartments in the region over the next couple of months. But the vacuum will be quickly filled.
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About Me
- Mark Gorman
- I was born in Williamsport, Pennsylvania, along the banks of the Susquehanna River, in the valley made up by Bald Eagle Mountain to the south, and gentle hills and valleys to the north. That place that sheltered me, gave me food and friends, and both physical and spiritual nourishment for 18 years. That is the space where I was physically and emotionally formed. Ever since growing up there . . . because of growing up there . . . I have been inexorably linked to nature . . . to the earth and to all life.