I may not ever get to see a comet race across the evening sky as passes by earth on its cosmic path into a distant universe. But I did watch a close equivalent to it last night.
I did drink in the excitement last night, as I watched a very long drought end when both the Chicago Cubs and Cleveland Indians played in the World Series. As a Midwesterner, this is comparable or better than watching a comet circle the earth; and it’s just as historic and long anticipated.
So I forgot to post last night. Long before the historic first match up game began, I walked a wooded path along an autumn lake.
I’d like to share this poem that makes me think of festive fall, and the cool blue waters of the lake.
The Autumn Lake
By Clark Ashton Smith
O sapphire lake amid autumnal mountains,
With fire of aspens round about you burning,
I would my love and I were now returning,
Perchance to leave you never—
To dwell with you, and know the mountain seasons,
The fleeing cloud, the cliff and pine eternal,
The fall of leaf and snow and blossom vernal
Upon your placid waters.
Tonight I’ll be watching the Indians and Cubs play ball, with my popcorn and peanuts at hand.