I’m 57 years old, and I’d like to go on record as saying that this is the ugliest autumn I’ve ever experienced. And please realize that this includes all the falls from the 1950’s through the early 1960’s when everything was still in black and white.

It’s green and brown. No glorious transition bursting with red, gold, and orange. If it isn’t dead yet, it’s green. Otherwise it’s brown.

Thanks a lot. It would have been nice to go through my divorce transition amidst the spectacular colors of change. In literature, I believe it’s called objective correlative when outer reality corresponds to the inner experience. If I were having an inner experience like this autumn I’d commit suicide.