Osler's Razor

I love this time of year.

Ok... so I say that a lot. And it is fair to say that I love the change of seasons, so it is a good thing I live in Minnesota, where summer is hot and winter is cold and autumn is colorful and spring is welcome like no where else.

But this part of late autumn is especially dear to me. Christmas is held at bay-- if you try-- for a few more weeks, and the holiday that is coming has a certain purity. Thanksgiving has almost commercialism around it; it's all about eating a good meal with people you love and appreciating what is good. Sure, it can get gooped up with nationalism or religiosity, but its essence is hard to resist.

A good time for poetry, don't you think?