It’s getting toward late October, and I pause to remember, it’s only a month into Fall, that’s all, there is still so much Autumn flavor to savor, so I head to the high meadow and a view of the snow dusted Divide, and for the colors and most of all the silent peace that place will provide, there is a chill in the air as I sit and stare at the wonder in a wild, in the raucous crying of a Mountain jay in Aspen glow, in the gentle eyes of a woodland doe, in the sound of Aspen quaking, in the breath in the breeze, in the trees, in me, and from how much time it’s taking,  I’m free.