Fall

Last night, the cold front really cleared out the air. You could look straight up and see the Milky Way. To think we are on the far edge of the one of the arms of this galaxy…

When I was a boy in Germany, we used to camp out most of the summer. We were like savages who came in only to get more supplies for our outdoor living. We stole potatoes and beer from our parents for our Kartoffelfeuer—“potato fire,” a big bonfire, potatoes baking in the coals, sausages and the pilfered beer. Then as the village slept we would creep out to mischief.

We slept in rough tents—bean poles with clear plastic draped over them. If we got caught, we told our parents we had to smoke to keep the mosquitoes out. They didn’t buy it and when our cigarettes were confiscated we smoked twigs of some plant, maybe clematis—if you cut off the ends just right, the stem was hollow.

As we lay on the ground, looking up at the stars, you could see the white haze we call the Milky Way. In German it is “Milchstrasse,” or “Milk Street.” It made sense then—it is a path in the sky that looks white—Milky Way sounds a bit archaic, I guess.

There’s too much light from the ground in most places to see the Milky Way. I wanted to wake the boys up, to see it, but there is time. As the night was turning cold and windy, I could see leaves falling, and planned out how we will bundle up, go to the creek and see what leaves are down. John is interested in collecting leaves, and Joe keeps waiting for the leaves on “the pretty road--” Old Frankfort Pike—to change.

Melissa said yesterday that God keeps reminding her that He is here. The recovery from all the infection and continued stomach problems taxes her endurance. Each day brings some new understanding of patient (or not so patient) endurance, reminders in our lives that only for brief moments are things normal.

I hope I will quit being such a whiner! I know one thing, now when I get sick or feel bad (I have a bruised tooth socket—I think from a wrestling match with the boys that did not go my way and believe me, I understand my fate; I know Tom and Chris Baker, and my boys are on their way), I realize it is nothing compared to what many people are dealing with. Perspective is always nice. I used to think I knew a lot.