Along The Way The month of October has always been a special month.  The weather starts getting cooler, we see the farms beginning their annual harvest, and we see the colors of Fall begin to appear.  And of course we begin to get into the time when the leaves fall and we are raking and vacuuming for weeks on end.  The following is an excerpt from a poem that was in the Atlantic Magazine that seems to say it all about the leaves: Long months, saith the Maker, the leaves of his trees Have exulted, fair green, in the sun. Is it meet, now their laughter must cease, Now the gain of their living is won, Is it meet that unhonored they wait for their death? Shall a blast come forth From the mouth of the north, Shall the cold come down From the pole’s ice-crown, And scatter, unheeded, these leaves with its breath? Nay, saith the Maker, they shall not so fare; They shall triumph in passing, shall dying declare The worth and the grace of their service; on pyres, That each shall ignite with its own heart’s fires, The trees of the forest shall yield up the dress That was lent them for use and for loveliness; And the crown of the seasons shall be, Not noon of the summer nor dawn of the...