Is it really November?

Doesn't it seem like the year has disappeared into the ether faster than normal? This fall is a blur. Above is the photo of part of the group from last month's OZ gathering.

I post it because Mother of Five and I (and the singing letterboxing baby, who is no longer a baby and only sometimes sings now) were able to go to Memorial Park yesterday and find a couple of the OZ boxes. I've been saving them, because they're near enough to my house that I can zip over and find one when I'm in need of a little letterboxing fix.

I blather on about Memorial Park, but I think we're lucky to have this little spot o' green in the middle of the 610 traffic crawl. There are times when I'm frustrated by the demands on me--volunteer, family, community, etc--and I just have to get away (but I still have to pick up kids in an hour). The jogging trail is a nice outing, but crowded with exercisers. I much prefer to be alone with my thoughts in the woods. About halfway through the yellow trail, when I can't hear traffic and haven't seen anyone for 10 minutes, there's this moment...and instead of the red in my head, I start to notice the differences from the last time I was there--a rooting armadillo, a newly fallen tree from the last storm, seasonal color on the leaves, an american beauty bush now in fruit. I hear the sounds--the tip-tapping of woodpeckers, rustling of snakes, twittering of squirrels, the whistling of wind in the treetops. And I feel my footsteps, going up and down these familiar hills (sliding some if it's rained recently), matching my own unique internal rhythm. Magically, the crowded thoughts dissipate and I feel myself relaxing, balance restored.

Anyway, there are still to-be-explored areas of this great park, and I highly recommend Bailey's Bunch's box A Texas Tornado in OZ in order to find one. It was fabulous, a great box. I love it when I'm surprised in a happy way.