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  • A beautiful fall welcomed us to our new home, Asheville, North Carolina. The colors and variety of trees and longevity of this season rivaled our beloved Vermont's.

    And now I've seen and heard and felt 39 autumns in this lifetime, although I remember only a blurred and mish-mashed subset of them.

    How strange it is to think in those terms, accounting for my life in 39 autumns come and gone. How many hundreds of thousands of leaves fallen, birdsongs sung, and pine needles perennially crushed underfoot?

    It would be a feat if I could accurately calculate these. Instead, I opt for all of that recollected beauty and blessing multiplied--heaped and heaped and heaped--until they fill all of time and space.

    How could I ask for more?

    I boldly make the offering and it dissolves into light.
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