Something about September has brought poetry back into my consciousness.
It might be the way the amber, diffused light knocks the sharp edges off of summer’s harsh palette. It could be the rhythmic pulsations of the crickets that seem to serenade just outside every window. Possibly it has to do with the mild temperatures previewing just the slightest hint of the chill that will soon set fireplaces aglow.
My friend Dusty Rhodes knew what was important in life.
I guess you don’t spend days clinging to a flotation net in 4,000 fathoms of shark infested waters, watching your friends slowly lose their minds, without gaining some degree of insight into what matters and what doesn’t.
Recently, Neil deGrasse Tyson, an astrophysicist who is director of the Hayden Planetarium in New York City, said that he wondered whether earth had already been visited by aliens. He contended that they may have observed human activity and concluded that there is no sign of intelligent life on our planet.