October in Spokane has to be my very favorite time of the year.  Yet my husband keeps reminding me that I say the same thing at the first snowfall, the first tulips poking through the ground in the Spring, and oh, those summer asparagus. All in all, I guess it’s just enough to be grateful that we live in a full four-seasons community. Our Cul de Sac’s name is Yale Court, and yet every maple tree in this court is bright red. I decided today it should be called Sugar Maple Court.

Even our Ash tree in the back yard, which our little Georgia grandson thinks is named after him because his name is Ash, is usually a deep burgandy this time of year, but lo and behold, this year it’s a brilliant red-orange.  Who knew a tree could change its colors, from burgandy to red-orange?

If our tree can do this, why can’t I?  Why can’t I become a finished novelist, rather than a wanna-be novelist?  Who knows?  Maybe I’ll change my colors as well.  Just yesterday I figured out how to put my beeconcise blog onto my Pinterest board.  Am I excited?  You bet. And just a few minutes ago I saw the same posting on my Facebook wall.  Who knew that could happen?  I know … any person the least bit technical, but you see, I am not usually in such categories.  I leave that to the techies of the world.

I am happy that I do not have anything to do with the trees changing colors, either.  I just leave it up to that great power in the sky, and all sorts of magical things happen. This alone fills me with wonder and hope.