Two hard frosts knocked the life out of a glorious profusion of flowers and herbs I planted five months ago. Thanksgiving Monday I dug and pulled, shook roots, and dropped the plants in the brown bag for collection. It felt like a film was being rewound to the days not long before when I carefully selected plants and their growth was enjoyed for the five months. The fifteen pots and four raised planters were now empty of all but soil – a bleak sight.

One day last week my first stop was a vaccine clinic. Doctors, nurses and administrative staff from our local health unit cheerfully and efficiently administrated our latest Covid booster and if we wanted, a flu shot. “I’m Dr ……” said the woman doing my jab. When I wondered at a doc doing the jabs she just said she felt it was important to do the clinics and help with public health.

My misspent youth memorizing comedy routines and imitating favourite comedians can still open all sorts of ridiculous doors at my geezer stage. One recent morning my gospel contemplation of Jesus’ conversation with a religious legal expert was salted with the voice of W.C. Fields, himself a salty comedian and movie star in the 1930’s. And no, I didn’t see him live.

The first day of Fall (the 22nd) landed like brick on a window in our neighbourhood - wind, rain, plummeting temperatures, leaves blowing off trees which let us know something had changed. It sharpens our senses and is a bit of a wakeup call to get ready for what comes next.

Two friends sat with me on our deck in the late afternoon sun. Nachos, drinks and steaks fuelled a wide-ranging conversation about how our grandkids will shape their faith, concerns for friends and questions about what of our understanding of Jesus had changed over the decades we have known one another. While Jesus has stayed at the centre, we have jettisoned some things and added much – and doubts about some things are also near the surface.