Traveled to Tempe, Arizona, the other evening to see & hear wonderful Amy Goodman, creator-host of Democracy Now! speak to a small but fully packed house on the university campus (maybe 300 persons?). A most wonderful talk, a lovely presence. What a treasure Amy is!
How does she do it? Year after year, day after day, she just keeps going—helping make our world a better place! Before her talk, she signed copies of her new book, Democracy Now!: Twenty Years Covering the Movements Changing America, written with David Goodman and Denis Moynihan. After her talk, one of many stops on a nationwide book launch tour, she signed more copies and posed for more photos with her fans, waiting for her car to arrive to whisk her to the airport, catch her flight back to NYC so she could film the next day’s show of her daily news presentation, “Democracy Now! The War and Peace Report,” carried by hundreds of TV and radio stations around the world. How does she do it?! “I’ll have time to sleep on the plane…,” she assured us. Such a lovely, amazing person. Everyone feels such love for her, and she palpably exudes love in every direction. Signing and posing after her talk, greeting her many fans, her face glowed with happiness and kindness, though she also seemed ready to collapse from exhaustion. I seriously wondered if she would hold up long enough for her car to arrive. I’m so glad I was able to catch her visit. What a jewel.
On this day, 1963:
It is clear and cool as if it had rained. But there has been no rain.
—Thomas Merton (1915-1968), Journals, Oct 29, 1963
Solitary converse with nature; for thence are expressed sweet and dreadful words never uttered in libraries. Ah! the spring days, the summer dawns, and October woods!
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882), “Inspiration,” Letters and Social Aims
The sentry sun, that glared so long
O’erhead, deserts his summer post…
—Thomas Constable (1812–1881), “Old October”
On the whole I take it that middle age is a happier period than youth. In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October, when the trees are bare to the mild heavens, and the red leaves bestrew the road, and you can feel the breath of winter morning and evening—no days so calm, so tenderly solemn, and with such a reverent meekness in the air.
—Alexander Smith (1829–1867), “An Essay on an Old Subject”
And now I might
As happy be as earth is beautiful…
—Edward Thomas (1878-1917), “October”
Drown me in October winds, in blowing leaves that turn the color of fire.
My favorite color is October.