Hal BorlandThinkers

Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color and a time of completion; but it is also breadth, and depth, and distance. What man can stand with Autumn on a hilltop and fail to see the span of his world and the substance of the rolling hills that reach to the far horizon?

June is a promise that May is bound to keep.

March is a tomboy with tousled hair. a mischievous smile, mud on her shoes and a laugh in her voice.

New Year's is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instill in us.

October is a month that provides a perennial temptation to plunge into a purple sea of adjectives.

October is the distant hills once more in sight, and the enduring constellations above them once again.

September is bound to keep the promises made by April.