in_the_blue | Listen, bro. Here's the deal.

October has always been my favorite month. For as long as I can remember, I've enjoyed it. Growing up on the east coast, October meant falling leaves and apple picking and Halloween, wearing sweaters, crispness to the air, extra blankets at night, getting darker that much earlier, being able to see my breath in the morning when I waited at the bus stop with the other kids. Now that I live out west (notice it's always out west, back east?), it means some of the same things but some different ones: the last flowering of the honeysuckle in our arbor, the cats wanting to come in at night, my daughter settled down and in her groove for school, berries on the madrona trees and the cotoneasters, trimming back the summer flowers in the yard, listening to the sounds of football games from the other room. And since this is Oregon, October also means the rare very warm sunny day; it's our last "dry' month before the rainy season begins in November and lasts through May.

Today happens to be an exceedingly beautiful day. It's bright, sunny, in the mid-60s or so they say, though it feels cooler now. There's a slight breeze; my pear trees are still in full leaf although a few of the leaves have started to redden. Yesterday evening we went for a walk at the Tualatin River Wildlife Sanctuary. Many of the paths there close on September 30, so we wanted to get a walk in on some of them before today, although it didn't really matter. It's nicely crafted: there are service roads and broad paths closed now through April, but there are also year-round paths. It was still warm enough yesterday that huge numbers of birds were quiet in the hour before dusk, but there were many great blue herons and we were serenaded by chickadees. A scrub jay with a prize the size of a ping-pong ball in its mouth watched us from the top of a snag, and a red-crested flicker sat proudly overlooking the Tualatin River for a long time. Most of the people walking through didn't even look up.

On the way back to the car, we were surrounded by a flock of bluebirds diving back and forth, catching bugs in the air and on the ground. There's a grove of freshly-planted oak trees and they really loved that area. They really are like small flying jewels; you catch that glimpse of bright blue and rust at the same time, and they make the sweetest sound. I'm kind of enamored with bluebirds just on general principle; they're such a wonderful sight. I'm so glad they're having a resurgence out here.

In the wintertime, the refuge is supposed to be home to bald eagles. I've seen a fair few flying over the highway in years past, but now that the refuge is open with a photo blind overlooking the river, that might provide some excellent opportunities. I used to have to go either to the Columbia River or the coast for eagles. I'll try to remember to update about the refuge in winter, if I remember. What a great place for a couple hours' walk.

October is a fine and dangerous season in America . . . a wonderful time to begin anything at all. --Thomas Merton

Work on

outpost_12 is commencing. I think we'll be ready in another week. Redesigned, tweaked, yeah, yeah. You know how it goes; I'm an editor by trade. I am really excited about it, though. I think Merton was right when he uttered that on his deathbed. Since so many of you fired August and then September, I'm holding out hope that October is in fact the kindest month.

Speaking of Halloween, I'm going to go as Vicious. See, you're trembling already.