Monday, September 18, 2006
October Awaits
It is September 18th, a mere 13 days from the most glorious month of the year. True, Thanksgiving and Christmas are single days of greater meaning to me, given their focus on the character of God and His interaction with us. But October holds great meaning for me in the realm of God's grand conversation with His people through nature.
Only in October can we see the trees form a wandering tapestry along vast rivers and over hill and dale. Now the sweaters and coats come out. Fresh apple cider has just made its appearance at Trader Joe's, and the crispness in the air speaks volumes. The birthday of my wife is woven into the month, and the sweaters and jackets she receives for her birthday can be put to immediate use. Here also is the final calm before the storm of the retail holiday season, where I can enjoy some final days of quiet before the business. But October is not only great in the spiritual realm...
October baseball is matchless. The pictures in my mind from October baseball range from the sorrowful to the joyful. Some of the excitement was impersonal: Big Papi's heroics, Kirby Puckett's celebrations, Bill Buckner's error, the mystique of Jim Leyritz, the cool confidence of Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera, and the awesome, mythic accomplishments of Curt Schilling. And finally, watching the greatest World Series in my lifetime, as an Arizona team rose from the dead to beat not only the Yankees, but defeat a legendary relief pitcher in Rivera.
Some moments were more personal: watching the hated Giants give away the World Series to the Angels. Sleeping against the brick facade at Fenway Park hoping for playoff tickets, and (upon securing them) witnessing first hand the wealth and sickness of Red Sox nation. Standing on Waveland Avenue in Chicago with a pennant starved city only minutes before a young man named Steve Bartman would become yet another misplaced source of Cub fan neurosis. Seeing, in person, the single greatest moment in LA Dodgers history, as the injured Kirk Gibson brought an often overly laid back crowd to the point of hysteria with one amazing swing of the bat. And seeing a young Mexican bring a World Series back to Los Angeles at the expense of the NY Yankees. These are the moments I witnessed.
These things make October my favorite month. The changing trees here in Minnesota remind me of what is in store...the great transitional month before the long, lustrous winter.
Only in October can we see the trees form a wandering tapestry along vast rivers and over hill and dale. Now the sweaters and coats come out. Fresh apple cider has just made its appearance at Trader Joe's, and the crispness in the air speaks volumes. The birthday of my wife is woven into the month, and the sweaters and jackets she receives for her birthday can be put to immediate use. Here also is the final calm before the storm of the retail holiday season, where I can enjoy some final days of quiet before the business. But October is not only great in the spiritual realm...
October baseball is matchless. The pictures in my mind from October baseball range from the sorrowful to the joyful. Some of the excitement was impersonal: Big Papi's heroics, Kirby Puckett's celebrations, Bill Buckner's error, the mystique of Jim Leyritz, the cool confidence of Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera, and the awesome, mythic accomplishments of Curt Schilling. And finally, watching the greatest World Series in my lifetime, as an Arizona team rose from the dead to beat not only the Yankees, but defeat a legendary relief pitcher in Rivera.
Some moments were more personal: watching the hated Giants give away the World Series to the Angels. Sleeping against the brick facade at Fenway Park hoping for playoff tickets, and (upon securing them) witnessing first hand the wealth and sickness of Red Sox nation. Standing on Waveland Avenue in Chicago with a pennant starved city only minutes before a young man named Steve Bartman would become yet another misplaced source of Cub fan neurosis. Seeing, in person, the single greatest moment in LA Dodgers history, as the injured Kirk Gibson brought an often overly laid back crowd to the point of hysteria with one amazing swing of the bat. And seeing a young Mexican bring a World Series back to Los Angeles at the expense of the NY Yankees. These are the moments I witnessed.
These things make October my favorite month. The changing trees here in Minnesota remind me of what is in store...the great transitional month before the long, lustrous winter.
# posted by Unknown @ 8:20 PM 
