OCTOBER GAVE A PARTY

 October gave a party;
The leaves by hundreds came…
The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples,
And leaves of every name.
The Sunshine spread a carpet,
And everything was grand,
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band. 
                                                ~George Cooper, "October's Party"  

Autumn has walked across our Pennsylvania mountains and spilled out all the seasonal smells like a rich perfume. This is time when red-cheeked apples and sweet wood smoke give off a familiar fragrance that is a harbinger of things to come. We can smell the earth—the dried cornstalks, the pungent aroma of woods and pine, and the musky scent of pumpkins and gourds. Along the fences, grapes on withering vines fill the air with an earthy bouquet. 

But there’s a certain sadness to autumn. It’s a warning that the year is ending, that we’re growing older. We’re maturing. It is a time to contemplate the reason for our being and for our purpose. It’s a time to be thankful for our lives, to re-evaluate our errors, to realign our goals, and to strive towards that which makes us happy . . . and our world a sweeter place.

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Above are the poem and excerpts from my very first online blog, for October 2011, fourteen years ago. Since graduating decades ago from Point Park College with a degree in journalism and communications, I’ve realized my entire life has been dedicated to pounding the typewriter or computer keys to string words into sentences and sentences into paragraphs. 

I’ve written for television, radio, education, industry and business. I’ve composed copy for commercials and public service announcements for radio, television, and news outlets. I’ve written grants, curricula, and news articles. I’ve taxed by brain while collecting facts for nonfiction, and stretched my imagination for fiction. I’ve written with tight deadlines of only a few hours; and I’ve procrastinated for days, knowing I had a loose lengthy deadline. 

All writers know the feeling of rejection—as well as the joys of being published. Awards are also wonderful to receive, but there is no better feeling for writers than the minute they finish a tough piece of writing, and they know they’ve given one hundred percent of their time, energy, and talent. The elation, which may only be a smile or nod or sigh to the outsider, can’t compare to the joy and relief they feel as the thoughts in their heads do a happy dance. 

Someone once asked me what I thought were the main ingredients needed to become a writer. There are many, but personally for me, the main abilities are curiosity, an imagination, persistence, and a love for reading. 

As October brings us falling leaves, falling temperatures, and maybe even falling snow, I leave you with this quote from Somerset Maugham:

It’s a funny thing about life; 

if you refuse to accept anything but the best, 

you very often get it. 

 

 

 

FINDING LOVE IN PINE VALLEY  

 

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