The Last Solstice?

Again I reach way back into the archives for this solstice story. It's one of my favorites because it was such a special year. In fact, there will be a well-earned ✋for those knowledgeable folks who know what year this was written in. (Or for those grammar nazi's among you, the year in which it was written.) All the clues you need are there.

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The Song of the Goat

"It is not often that you will hear a goat bleating for no apparent reason, and if you do, it most often signals that something is wrong. Act immediately!"

Ancient Greek saying

I think those old Greek guys were saying that some things are unmistakable in their meaning and in this case, the goat sees that danger is near. Perhaps our goat has been bleating for quite some time but we just didn’t recognize it. (Which in hindsight, given the last few years, was really true.)

This year it is necessary not just to plead for the sun to return but for something for it to return to.

This really gets my goat!

We all knew it was going to come to this, didn’t we? Unless you live in a cave - or you're like my dear friend now living in Las Vegas who is 50% of an idiot savant (and not the savant part) regarding pop culture - you know that according to highly reliable sources the end of life as we know it will occur on or after the solstice, Dec. 21 this year. No really, it’s all over but the shouting.

Apparently, the Mayans, the Hopi Indians, Nostradamus and Edgar Cayce – and several Wall Street analysts - all predicted this so it must be true (see, I watch Discovery Channel.) On this solstice the earth and the sun are aligned with the Dark Rift (the center of the Milky Way galaxy.) This only happens every 26,000 years - look it up - and I guess that means that it curtains for us. (Ignoring for the moment that would mean that the world ended 26,000 years ago too.)
 

It's apparently about 10 min's til doom 

I know, I know, this is all a bunch of hooey; there’s no way that this is going to happen, blah, blah, blah and I agree (I think) but bear with me. How do we really know what’s going to happen on any given day let alone such an auspicious date as Dec. 21, 20XX?  

In short, we don’t. For example, I have long wondered about that time 66 million years ago when that meteor or comet or whatever crashed into the earth killing all the dinosaurs. (Apparently not far from where Cancun is today - imagine what that would do to the time share business!) 

As an interesting aside, did you know that there is an amusement park (not surprisingly in Kentucky) called the Creation Museum that has, among other interesting displays, one that shows, and I quote, “Children play and dinosaurs roam near Eden’s Rivers.” This apparently happened about six thousand years ago. Kids and dinosaurs together. Six thousand years ago. Who knew?! 

Anyway, imagine yourself as one of those big, galoot, dinosaurs with a brain the size of a walnut, (only somewhat smaller than mine and that of anyone who plays golf) peering up into the southern sky and seeing some bright, burning object. Do you think they looked at their partner and said, “Well, my dear, it appears that we are doomed.” No, they almost certainly stood staring, mouth open like some Millenial Gen Z Tik Tok watching, i Phone-staring, X Box playing slacker and said “Whuuh?” So, maybe even with our somewhat bigger brain we’re not really able to see the danger either.

Whoa, Dude, that's really bright!

Well, I’m not going to just sit here and take whatever those ancient @!&holes throw at me! Did we give up when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?! (Another Special Solstice award for anyone who recognizes the classic movie this bon mot came from. Or again for Grammar Nazi's, the movie from which this bon mot came.) No, and I’m not going to quit now either. I’m going to do something, damn it! I’m going to resist the common-sense response of panic! I’m going to use my “big brain” and fight back! I’m going to do the natural - and male - thing . . . I’m going to beg! (And apparently use exclamation marks egregiously!)

Now, take a look at this, gods, fate, Bringer of Death or whoever you are:

Geez, what did Lambie and I do wrong to deserve this?

Ah, the hell with it - badminton anyone?

 

Are you willing to wipe out a planet that has creatures like this? Creatures who are loyal, loving, playful, patient, nap a lot and sniff each other to say hello? (Most of which traits, except for napping, humans do not share.) Well, if you are then I say take us all because a universe that perverse and mean spirited is not a place I want to live in anyway.

But if, after this simple plea, I wake up the day after the solstice (with all my most important parts intact) then I will know that begging - and/or cute dog pictures - works and there is some reason to keep fighting the good fight; I will gladly go back to my annual pleading for the days to get longer. 

Of course, if I – no - if WE don’t wake up then everyone will be spared said pleading along with other unpleasant things like going to work, taxes, politicians, mouthy kids, people texting while driving or talking on cell phones while golfing and wearing Depends. (Ugh, nevermind that last part.)
 

Dear Leader's pensive and hopeful great uncle twice removed staring into the winter sky

On that note I leave you and say, see you on the 22^nd, my friends (I hope). 

Happy Holidays to all!

Your Dear Leader and Solstice Warrior, 

D Roger P

 

PS 

Hold your kids tight and as often as you can . . . because you just never know.

PPS

If you guessed that my begging succeeded that year, very good!

Pix from 2021 Solstice S'More Soiree 

A new generation of Solstice lovers

Don't hog the fire!

Isn't Dear Leader wonderful?
(Not really, no)

Two Bad Christmas Songs and One Good One (you decide which is which)

Little Saint Nick Beach Boys

Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer

Please Come Home for Christmas Martina McBride

Hurricane Ian, Butterflies and The Matrix

Dedicated to my friends in FL, NV and AZ

With special music by Lizzy Rain!

After the interruption for that very important post about the end of the golf season I can get back to my more normal kvetching about something. 

There is nothing new about us humans building in weird or obviously inhospitable places - some might even include MN in that category - because it has been a human habit throughout our fairly brief stint on this planet. It is also not news that we have a heck on impact on the environment wherever we go.  A couple letters to the editor back in October got me thinking about this. (You've probably noted that I get a lot of ideas from fellow gadflies who write letters or opinions to the newspaper.)

The letters on 10/15 were regarding the aftermath of Hurricane Ian and 10/16 on a sad story relating to the disappearing butterflies.  Respectively, they made arguments pro and con about rebuilding in a hurricane zone and about human encroachment on habitat for fellow creatures. These were thought provoking and related, but as usual, in a different way for me. To me they seem tied together by a movie from several years ago. 

Let me try to explain my thinking here.

First let's consider Ft Meyers (and Florida in general.) 

Ft Myers/Lee County circa 1956 - a total population of around 54,000.

For all intents and purposes, the Ft Meyers area is a swamp that backs up to the Gulf of Mexico, yet people (relatively few) have lived here for thousands of years. It may be a swamp but it’s also a paradise, especially for a bunch of pale skinned northerners who will do anything to avoid freezing their butts off in our vicious winters - including building in a swamp.

Ft Myers/Lee County 2020, 756,000

    

In fact, most of FL south of Tampa is a swamp. That hasn’t stopped people from jamming themselves in there though. 20 million people and growing - about 900 people per DAY are moving to the Sunshine State, a state that is 2/3 the size of Minnesota. And much of it a swamp. A state that endures more hurricanes than any other with Texas a distant second. (Also, not surprisingly, the most expensive homeowners’ insurance in the US by a loooonnnnng way - and about to get worse.*)

 Ft Meyers Sept 28 2022

So why do we humans keep building in a place that is obviously not logical? Because we want to and we can. What the heck, why not, when somebody else will help pay for rebuilding!

* As if to emphasize a point, Hurricane Nicole hit FL east coast on 11/10, second one this year and only the third one in November since they started keeping score 170 years ago.

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Here’s a completely different example of our “positive thinking” about where to live.

VIVA Las Vegas!

Again, people (relatively few) have lived here for thousands of years and the good news is that like FL, Las Vegas has great weather – with the bonus that it isn’t a huge swamp and doesn't have hurricanes (but does have gambling, great golf courses and, uh, other interesting things) so people have swarmed here too.

The population of Las Vegas in 1950 was about 26,000.

Today? It’s 2,839,000

It is, however, in the middle of a desert. A desert, by definition, is dry. It is very dry. Unless, that is, you can siphon off enough water from a big river to support millions of people – in the middle of the desert. Of course, there are millions of other sun worshipers (and bless their hearts, golfers) who want to live in the desert too: Phoenix 4,652,000, Tucson 1,043,400. Oh heck, let's throw in LA, pop.12,488,000 and it's in a desert too and drawing on the Colorado River as well.  

Colorado River/Hoover Dam/Lake Mead 1950’s

Plum Full

Lake Mead Today

      

 1/4 Full

There are millions more in the SW who have stuck a straw in the river for their share as well. What will happen? Well, apparently the fertilizer is about to hit the ventilator. Sadly, Lake Mead is only a quarter full so everyone’s share is going to be getting smaller. NV, AZ and CA are “supposed” to each reduce water from the river by 25% next year. Yikes! (Of course, I'll believe it when I see it.) Anyway, this is only the beginning of reductions so as they say, somethings gotta give. Today? Tomorrow? Probably not but it is inevitable.

One more example.

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. . . And it ain't just sunshine that draws us humans.

Fairbanks AK Today

 

Fairbanks population: 1960 - 1453    2022 - 32,702

Finally, people (a few hardy people) have also lived here for thousands of years. It's a beautiful place (for about 12 hours in July.) They don’t have hurricanes and they have plenty of water (although a lot of it in frozen form) with lots of forests. Which is good. Average temperatures range from 0°F to -30°F from November to March and 40°F to 60°F in “summer.” Heating with fuel oil can cost up to $700/mo so burning wood is kinda necessary - even if environmentally crappy. Everything else is about 30% more expensive here too. Worst of all, it's a loooonngg way to a good golf course.

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Okay, these are just a few examples and all in the US. Think of all the other places - really dumb places - in the world where humans decided to plop down and stay. 

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Now, about our friends the disappearing butterflies.

Poweshiek Skipperling Butterfly

The Poweshiek is apparently on its last legs as a species. Species disappearing is nothing new on earth - except since we humans arrived we seem to be helping a lot of them along on their journey to extinction. Just a few of the many, think Dodo bird, California Grizzly and Syrian Wild Ass (I just wanted to say ass.) I also just read Alaskan crabs and Northern shrimp are damn near gone thanks to us.

Hey, cool, got room for a butterfly?

How come? Well, it's not where we live so much as how we live that's the problem. Apparently, a lot of other creatures are not as crazy about nice lawns, asphalt, cars, airplanes, concrete, guns and our voracious appetites as we are. Oh well, it's a bummer but in every war there's casualties. (Which is okay as long as it's not us.)

So this is where the movie “The Matrix” enters in and I think it ties all this together nicely.

There is a scene where the AI life form called Agent Smith is interrogating the human, Morpheus. It may have been a dumb movie but this stuck with me:

Agent Smith: “Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the . . . environment but you humans do not. You move to an area and multiply and multiply until every natural resource is consumed and the only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you what it is? A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet. You’re a plague and we are the cure.”

Agent Smith

Morpheus

Ouch, that's a pretty dark view and we may not like it but it has the ring of some truth.

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Dear Leader is nothing if not a realist. We all have to live somewhere and since we are such clever, hairless apes, we will keep on living where we want anyway so it's hard to get too excited. 

(Besides, you don't get to the top of the food chain by being a nice guy.) 

There's a famous saying about Americans and crisis management which is, we are world renowned experts at it . . . but's mostly because we cause a lot of them and/or don't do anything until we are in one. So, we won't change - until we run out of cheap water, cheap energy and cheap food and/or get tired of being flooded or droughted (is that a word?) out every few years - and the government can't or won't bail us out anymore.

So imagine in 10 or 20 years when people start figuring this out and begin moving to - or back to - places that are more hospitable (assuming they can find one.) And I don’t just mean from FL, AZ, NV or AK. There will be people, millions of people, moving from rising oceans and growing deserts all over the world. Talk about an immigration – or migration - problem! (On a positive note, maybe we'll find out how the Neanderthals felt when us Homo Sapiens moved to town.) 

Ah, if we could just ask the butterflies (or the Syrian Wild Ass.)

Minnesota motto in year 2100:

 

Land of 10,000 Lakes and 10 Million People

Epilogue: Admission

Dear Leader is nothing if not honest (or some might say a hypocrite.) He and Mrs Dear Leader will continue to bail out of the artic north and head south to the desert - strictly for health purposes, of course - for as long we can travel or until they run out of water, whichever comes first. 

It is good to be at the top of the food chain.

Last Waltz for Earth Lizzy Rain (Follow links)

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Next up: Solstice Story and S'Mores

The End is Nigh

Skip Raking, Go Golfing!

I was well along in writing a new post that was a look at why humans tend to move to and live in places that are not really meant for humans. You know, places that are built in a swamp and regularly battered by hurricanes like, say, Ft Myers, FL. Or in a desert, for example, like Las Vegas or Phoenix. Included were thoughts on our selfish destruction of the environment for our fellow creatures like butterflies. But something much more serious and important has come up that I had to acknowledge and write about. The end of the golf season.

I know what you’re thinking. “What?! Golf is more important and serious than hurricanes and deserts and stuff?” Sorry, that is a question only a Minnesota non-golfer could ask and the answer, of course, is yes. 

Anyway. The season is winding down as it always must up here on the tundra. Oh, there will still be some days where you will see silly golfers out there in 40 degree weather in shorts and windbreaker pretending they are enjoying freezing off important parts of their bodies. (And don’t up and go stereotyping, it’s not all men, only 98%.) I have to admit there was a time (a long time ago - over 3 years actually) when I might have been one of them but now in my dotage, I have come to my senses and will NOT join that foolish band. No sir, it has to be at least 45 degrees AND less than 20mph wind – a man has to have standards! (Well in golf anyway.) Nonetheless, the end is coming.

A me lookalike enjoying a fall round

Weather this season has been splendid even if partially brought by drought conditions. Droughts are obviously difficult for the golf industry - do you know how much it costs to keep watering a 180 acre golf course?! And my greatest fear was that the powers that be would try to divert water to silly things like crops and people’s yards and showers. Thank the God of Golf, Lord Doubleeagle, they didn’t have to. But dry conditions are otherwise a boon to golfers (many of whom are “fair weather golfers” like most of my friends) and it has been a fine season.

Many people ("Normals" as we golfers call them) seem to have a problem understanding what it is about the game that attracts us. For example, many studies have shown that golfers are among the most brilliant, talented, highly educated and often the most handsome people around.(With a certain ex-Presient being the exception that proves the rule)Yet, they say, we become addicted to a game that turns us into brain addled Gombies (or Golf zombies.) Delusional individuals who spend an enormous amount of money and time just to be constantly beaten to a pulp by the game - and within 24 hours are convinced that the beating was an abberation and they will soon be breaking par. Well, ha, the joke is on the Normals! There is a great Garth Brooks song called “Standing Outside the Fire” the chorus of which is “life is not tried it is merely survived if you’re standing outside the fire.” It’s about people who never take a chance and just trudge through life, happy and content with their nice home and families, sanity and money. Not golfers! No,ma’m, we jump into that blazing dumpster fire that is golf several times a week – and . . . well, it hurts,yes, but there’s always another tee time tomorrow. I choose to lovingly describe the game as a “Trifecta of Fertilizer”: expensive, time consuming, and frustrating. (Fertilizer isn’t actually the word I use but this is family blog post.)

The Agony . . .

 . . . And the Ecstacy

Also, Mrs Dear Leader is endlessly fascinated by my ability to link absolutely any everyday occurrence to golf. “Dear, I got a raise!” Which I could describe as “Dear, It’s like I had two birdies today!” Or, “The neighbors house caught on fire.” Which I could say is just like “Oh no, got rearended and wrecked the clubs!” Yes, golf really is a metaphor, analogy and simile for life. 

Golf also has all the important human conditions: anger, frustration, depression, resentment, resignation – and occasional euphoria. She’s so impressed that she often just shakes her head in wonder at my brilliant insights.

So now to end with one of those figures of speech, let us just say that as the days grow shorter, the number of tee times also grow fewer. Not unlike the days of our life left to jump in the fire (or something like that.) So be sure to get your tee times while you can, you never know which one will be your last. (Although I have played in Jan in MN so I don’t exactly know what that means in our metaphor. Resuscitation maybe?)

Anyway, true story: Bing Crosby was an absolute golf fanatic. In October, 1977, he walked off a golf course in Spain AFTER a round – and dropped dead on the spot, heart attack. I know what you’re thinking, perfect way to go, right? Sadly, no, he didn’t sign his score card so he was disqualified from the tournament. See, golf really is like life – not always fair.

Well, I gotta go, I’m playing tomorrow so I need to charge the battery for the electric golf vest that my golf caddy daughter gave me and the electric gloves that Mrs Dear Leader gave me (foolishly thinking I would use them for something stupid like shoveling snow.)

A Younger Dumber Guy

Okay, Still Kinda Dumb

Anyway happy fall. Bundle up and get another round in before it’s too late.

FORE!

PS

Coming soon, a new post on more human foibles. 

Music to sooth the golfers soul:

Dougle Bogey Blues (Really blue this time of the year!)

I Come to Bury the Liberal Arts . . .

  . . . Not to Praise Them

A recent letter to the editor in the Strib regarding the looming - and apparently, welcome - decline of the liberal arts education (You know, the education most of us got when we went to colleges like the Harvard of the North, UMD!) struck a chord with me.  It reminded me that I had been thinking about the passing of the good old BA and the Humanities some time ago. Allow me to meander to my point.

I started college back when dinosaurs roamed the earth - 1966. Like most wide-eyed freshman, i.e. without a clue, I took all the required liberal arts undergrad courses while assiduously (a word I must have learned in one of those classes) avoiding math and science to the greatest extent possible. (Thankfully, one geology and one biology class filled the requirement.) I admit that when I took classes like World Lit, Intro to Art and Philosophy 101 I simply suffered through them as the price I had to pay to get to declare a major.

No change in 56 yrs - still a dork

And declare I did. I ended up with a BA degree with a major in political science and minor in world history - ha ha ha, not a STEM class in sight! Hot damn, that REALLY prepared me for the world of work. Of course, I was also in the Air Force ROTC and knew I had a job when I graduated for at least the next five years so I had that going for me.

Now fast forward over 50 years. I have been fortunate to stumble through life with a long career in the military doing a number of different jobs (including as a navigator – take that, STEM!) After retiring I followed it with stints of several years each in the health care industry and as an adjunct college instructor. (And stumble is the correct word, I never had a clue about what I wanted to be when I grew up. Still don’t.) I readily admit that my undergrad degree itself was of virtually no value to anything I did in the real world. However, GETTING that degree meant everything.

Algebra? I don't need no stinking algebra!

You know there’s an old joke that asks how often do you really need to know how many Circles there are in Dante’s Inferno (9) or need algebra (more often than you think.) I would have said the same thing in my youthful exuberance but as I reflect on my life now I know how often I have dredged up some piece of information long buried in my few remaining brain cells. For example, you would be surprised how often that knowing a little about Descarte (I thought therefore I was?) or what Socrates had to say about youth could help me to at least not sound like a total idiot in a conversation with people I respected.  Then, of course, I would occasionally bump into a conversation about Mozart (or Rod McKuen, look him up) and be able to impress attractive, young women. Ah, the humanities! (Most of my friends, bless their tiny little hearts, are just impressed that I made it through college.)

In the end, though, it’s not even the individual nuggets of information that are the most important thing from a liberal art education at least for me, it’s the skills I developed from it. I think that being exposed to all those totally new ideas and concepts and being challenged to agree or disagree with them greatly helped me in life. That also seems like a pretty good definition of critical thinking too. (As proof that there is a god of irony, I stumbled into teaching Critical Thinking.) I can’t speak for others but it also fostered in me a great curiosity about life and brought at least some ability to learn new things.

Well, I can hope, right?

That was then and this is now. Now students are asked to focus on skills that employers want rather than taking the time to explore new ideas and wasting time on “unnecessary” subjects and I get it. (Although I think there is something sinister about turning our entire education system into an assembly line for corporations.) There was a time when any kid who graduated and could fog a mirror could get a good job. That is no longer true and also a college degree isn’t really necessary for many of the new jobs - although everyone needs a skill. Besides, not everyone can or should go to college. 

And I have to admit that if I had to pay $100,000 or even $50,000 for a BA degree it would give me pause too – my degree cost $6,000, every penny of which was paid by me. I guess you can add that to the long list of benefits heaped on my generation, the baby boomers, the luckiest one in the history of the world. (Although we haven’t done much to justify that good fortune.)

But this is about those that who do go to college - or are interested in learning new things. While there is no point to lamenting the decline of liberal arts, I do think that we will find the country poorer for its loss and the skills that type education brings us. In fact, I hope we aren’t already seeing this with the turmoil enveloping our country politically, socially and economically. 

Sadly, the distrust of science, loss of belief in democracy and increase in "mystical thinking" and dysfunction this causes in many of our most important institutions does not bode well for our country.  

                                                                            Oh man, here we go again                                                                                                  (well, so long "The Catcher in the Rye" I guess)

Obviously there's no rule that a college education is required to explore new ideas and learn to think critically but even so perhaps we can find a worthy replacement for the liberal arts anyway.

And to make it more palatable to some perhaps we could name it the “conservative arts?”

 

 My Old School Steely Dan

Autumn

 Autumn in Minnesota

Ah, autumn in Minnesota, the Dolos of seasons. (You know, Dolos, the Greek spirit of trickery and treachery?) What better name for a spirit that lulls us with a perfect September, a lovely October - then punches us in the face with November enroute to the pits of January, February and March! (December gets a pass for now for good reason as you will see.) 

Wait! I said I was going to write something positive this time and by God I’m going to if I have to lie my butt off. 

So, there is much to love about the fall (as long as you have short term memory loss.) First, think of these soft, cool mornings with bright comfortable days that slide into town in late August. Then as the days wear on the leaves turn to bright colors that make the mythical Joseph’s multi-colored coat look like an army surplus sweatshirt.

Of course, the “official” end of summer is signaled by the annual junk food bacchanalia of the state fair. Where else can you see hordes of (full-figured) people across all race, age and income groups – people who on any other day might be beating each other over the head with political signs - crowd together around the French Fry hut? Or even better, eating such delicacies as Creamy Sardines on a Stick and fried Cheese Stuffed Ice Cream? Yum!

Oh hell, we can another 10,000 folks in here

We interrupt this gushing post to note the sober passing of the autumnal equinox on Sept 21st. Say good night, Dick. Even if you could balance an egg on its end, it’s a small reward for days shorter than nights.

Next, it’s important that I mention the best thing about this season – golf! (As Mrs Dear Leader often pleads, “Must everything relate to golf?” The answer, of course, is "Yes!”) The avid – but often unskilled – golfer can find many positives this time of the year. There is the savings when courses start charging those "cheap" fall rates. Wonderfully, they last until the last parka-clad golfer’s drill bit gets stuck in the frozen tundra trying to get his tee in the ground. (I’m not kidding, I know guys who carry a drill like an additional putter.) That’s so stupid, right? Just bring a hammer! Another great benefit is the “Leaf Rule.” It’s a unique rule recognized only in places that actually have both fall and trees. If you can’t find your ball due to leaves on the course the golfer is allowed a penalty-free drop somewhere near it was last seen headed. The rule is usually very liberally applied. (Golf is full of many stupid rules why not have a good one!) Sadly, the downside at the end of the season – often in December - are the increased visits to mental health professionals by twitchy golfers jonesing for one more round.

 "I think we can one more round in by sunset at 4"

Moving on, sadly we gather the last fruits of our labor from our vegetable gardens (well, not us, we had some issues but I mean a lot of people do) while we prepare to collect the red and gold bounty of our many stately old trees i.e. 60-70 bags of @%*&! leaves!

There is also, of course, the celebration of Halloween where kids can consume slightly more candy than their parents can tolerate. Perhaps lots more. It’s also when you discover who the misanthropes are on the block. You know, the ones who turn off all the lights and skulk in the dark until it’s over. Or worse, handout carrot sticks and kale. Doh.

No, you can't make me go to the Pederson's - she's nice but him and his stupid fake nose and mustache scare me!                                         (Note: I don't have a fake nose and mustache.)

We mustn’t forget the most important fall sport. No, not football – hunting! Fall is a paradise for hunters in our fair state. Grouse, pheasants, ducks, geese are all in our sights. Of course, the big kahuna of hunting is deer. Hunters forego all rationality in their pursuit of shooting Bambi. You know, staying in an old shanty, pooping over a log, inbibing vast amounts of alcohol and heading out before dawn with a high powered rifle. Yowser! (Except for the shanty, the pooping thing, the dawn and the rifle, this is pretty similar to some golf outings I've heard of.) As an aside, we also have the unusual marriage relationship here during deer season called the “deer hunting widow.” If you think there's wildlife in the woods, go to a bar on opening weekend of deer hunting.

Note: no guys in camouflage . . .

Then we have the reward for our annual labors which is, of course, Thanksgiving. That orgy of turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, 3 bean casserole, (hotdish?) cranberries, hot cross buns all topped off with pumpkin pie. Then, like our pilgrim ancestors, we unbuckle our pants and watch . . . football? An odd tradition but what the heck.

Noooo, I hate sitting with these losers, put me with other kids and Uncle Doug!

Finally, as fall gives way to December, and the dubious "charms" of winter, we watch the days get shorter and nights get longer and colder. Suddenly, amidst the gloom, Elpis, the greek spirit of Hope appears on the horizon in the early evening sky. She comes in the form of the Winter Solstice, as the greatest day of the year now comes into sight! Soon we will celebrate the Sun’s decision to stop at the Tropic of Capricorn and start back north to make Minnesota habitable again. (With Christmas thrown in as a bonus!)

Anyway, have a very nice autumn and before you know it we will be . . . 

. . . dreading the Summer Solstice again!

 

The falling leaves drift by the window
               The autumn leaves of red and gold                                                                                                                                                                                          I see your lips, the summer kisses                                                                                                                                                                                   The sun-burned hands I used to hold . . .

Yes, I miss you most of all, my darling                                                                                                                                                                                                     When autumn leaves start to fall

By Jacques Prevert / Joseph Kosma

The Falling Leaves   Nat King Cole

September  Earth Wind and Fire