Thank you!

Thank you!

Call me biased, but there is a humble, loving air to Thanksgiving that wins it the Best Holiday prize in my heart. It is a special, understated, and grace-filled time.

I treasure the way Thanksgiving is so unassuming. It is outward-facing. It is simple, and demands nothing in return. It offers space for quiet gratitude for the positive and good things of the world and its people. Thanksgiving is about so much more than gorging on a dressed-up meal and getting out the door to the Black Friday sales.

 
 
 
 

Thanksgiving comes at that delicious in-between time when we are switching out summer and winter clothing, resetting our inner thermostats, ramping up the practice of wearing layers. Nature is right there with us, offering lessons on settling in to rest for a few months between growing seasons. Look outside. Listen to the geese overhead, and the hush of the woods. Breathe in the freshening air.

Gratitude as a habit did not come easily to me. Looking back, there were plenty of years of darkness and negativity. Thank goodness, I came to realize what a drag it was, living 24/7/365 inside my own negative head. Changing that habit was worthwhile work, and has led to a more upbeat, fun life.

 
 
 
 

I do like to stretch Thanksgiving out. It deserves to be more than a single day. Heck, its sparkly neighbor, Christmas, starts appearing back around Labor Day! So, the month of November has become my Month of Gratitude. Messages of thanks from me have issued forth to friends and family each November day for years. As a kid, my daughter would always find a sticky-note posted on the bathroom mirror offering up a small point of thanks every November morning.

 
 
 
 

But for some odd reason, I missed out this year. 2022 has unfolded with such triple-time cadence that I’m astonished and wistful to realize suddenly that it is already mid-November! And then I found that in 155 blogs over the past eight years, never has Generally Write addressed my favorite holiday.

Thankfully, it’s not too late to make amends. In the spirit of taking note of each new day, let me offer up a re-post (lightly edited) of a blog from November 2015. It is my Thanksgiving thanks to you. May each of your days in this special season remind you how each is a “present”—a real gift. I’m so grateful for your support! Enjoy.

 
 
 
 

This is that day


This is that day, when you realize the golden hot orange red yellow of autumn has passed.

This is that day, the one you know has been coming for weeks, when the color in the treeline across the farmer’s field has faded to grey and brown.

This is that day, when the wind has blown the branches naked and the trees seem suddenly upside down, their roots reaching to the sky.

This is that day, with rain that dampens the transient crinkle of newly-fallen leaves and musty waft when you scuff through. Soon, the fallen leaves will be bland, wet, rubbery.

This is that day: first frost. First honest-to-goodness frost.

This is that day, when the light once again filters through heights blocked by the summer leaves, when the horizon is visible through the forest, when dawn has a wider beam.

This is that day, when it’s time to really pay attention to those outdoor chores — the hoses, the flowerbeds, the plowman’s markers — or it Will. Be. Too. Late.

This is that day, when soup recipes come to mind, along with the cheery anticipation of the dance of yellow flames in the wood stove.

This is that day when the couch reasserts itself over the patio furniture, with the promise of a quilt to burrow under, a good book, hot cocoa (or maybe a hot buttered rum), and peaceful music.

This is that day when the change of season is irrefutable, inevitable, indescribable. Which is just fine with me.

 
Namibia (The Southern Tour)

Namibia (The Southern Tour)

The Queen Lived Long

The Queen Lived Long