The trees outside my window are turning. Brilliant oranges and yellows mingle with greens. Golden leaves blanket the lane, looking for all the world like a calendar picture.
Opening the journal, I leafed back to where it all began. “A Thousand Gifts,” it read, “begun July 2010.” Number one was “the first red tomato.” This was followed by “grass in my tub, ‘wunch,’ a pastor with a sense of humor, and gouges in my Velveeta loaf.” That was two through five.