I like Fall. The days are clear and crisp. Leaves that reached up and covered the parkways are now bright and falling down. Light is everywhere.

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Last week I worked in Connecticut, where the leaves seemed more colorful than they are here in the DC.

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No trip to New England would be complete without lobster roll or chowder, and this one finished wonderfully.

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The past few weeks since my last blog have gone by in a blur. There was apple picking, and pie making, and bike riding, and napping, and reading, and so much more.

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Last Sunday I rode out to Mt. Vernon on the bike trail, which was 45 miles of awesome fall riding, all on paved bike trails except a few blocks in Old Town Alexandria.

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I like riding through Old Town – the streets are narrow and the houses are crooked, there are old bike tunnels, and it’s just always a good time. The rest of the trail is nice, too, with a lot of bridges over marshy area. Good times.

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From there the trail follows the river to Mt. Vernon. The river is wide and nice, a few sailboats were out.

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But most of the sailboats were buttoned down in the marina.

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The trail winds for miles and miles.

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Saturday I had a very special mission: get a Reader Pass to the Library of Congress. This was duly obtained and the author may have done a tiptoe victory lap of the main reading room. Solely for research purposes, of course. Do a Google Image search for Library of Congress and you’ll get an idea of how cool this is.

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It took enormous self restraint not to join this kid in the leaf piles on the Capitol lawn – after all, how often does one get the chance to jump in leaves? And, on this lawn?

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‘til next time, dear friends. Find the light in every day and bask in it.

Running to the Light

Running round the sacred mountain
The rushing stream
Feel the power
In everything
By the water, where the air is clear
Surrender everything

Old hearts grow younger again
They promise bring
The greenest plants are tender
They’re full of sap in spring
Empty the places of the mind
Running to the light
Running to the light

Those who stride too far too soon,
Will not hold pace
Only the calm
Will win the race
Through the forest, the sea of mountain pine
Surrender everything

Only those who
Greatness see in little things
Worthy are the simple
They’re happy in their ways
Self will wither out of sight
Running to the light
Running to the light

Arise soul
Soar above the singing river
Go lying down
Into the ground
Quickened by the stream
When all is said and done
The race moves on

Running, running