10th Month--The Trees Are On Fire

I can’t believe it is mid-October, feels like I just moved here. I apologize for not sending a report all summer but it was just too busy. Those of you who have visited understand why. Those who never venture, never will fully understand…

Since my last note, I have been to the Belmont Stakes (horse races—too bad Smarty Jones); been to CA to see my sister Irma (my “twin”) get married; saw a Mermaid Parade at Coney Island; attended a free Los Lobos Concert in Brooklyn (Yes, Brooklyn); watched Fire flies glide through the soupy summer nights in the park; watched an Opera and Chicago, the musical; took a gondola ride in Central Park; rode the Cyclone in Coney Island and got soaked in a rainstorm; visited Maine to eat Lobster; cruised Boston Harbor; entertained my brother Hector and two nephews till they were silly tired; ate like a pig and drank like a fish; and visited Montauk (beach resort on the furthest point of Long Island—where the ship Amistad landed and Teddy Roosevelt was quarantined after the Spanish American War).

There is so much more to tell, but now I want to concentrate on the coming fall. Two weeks ago I took a day trip to the Berkshires (Massachusetts) to experience the color change in the foliage and visit the Norman Rockwell Museum.

This is my first “eastern fall” in eight years and I had forgotten what an impact fall could have. The trees were radiant in hues of green, yellow, orange and red. At times, it seemed the hills were on fire. I was reminded that it is through color that nature communicates with us. And the trees, they were telling me that it was time to slow down, time to cast off old sins and old worries like brown leaves. It was the trees that reminded me that there is a cycle to everything.

And that brings me back to why I am here. I am here to reinvent myself--like nature. In LA, I had grown stagnant. I had outgrown my skin, my boundaries. It was time to take on new adventures. By testing my limits, I am coming full circle to where I started. I realize that sometimes we need to change in order to be ourselves. The trees may shed their leaves but they are still trees…

Here is another poem:

The Sadness of Days

I have been sad for days.
Not with the sadness of being born,
or the sadness of a torn romance.
But with the sadness of a poor man smiling.
Honestly I would like to feel compassion
for those without luck.
I would like to touch their suffering
and say that I understand.
These days in November are obscure,
almost silver, and given to the heavens.
Honestly, I want to find myself,
to sit under a tree with its dusty fruit
of salvation. I will take my place,
Listen up, and have faith in all things.

--Luis Omar Salinas