Matt, is a pig picking the same as a New England pig roast? Great fun for all but the pig.

CamiSu - Don't you just love it when the maples let go like that in the wind. I especially love it when the wind picks up the falling leaves and Mama Nature dances.

This morning as I drove to work the rising sun was at my back. There was a great band of mist over the New Meadows River under which there was some clear air and then mist right on the river. The sunlight crept into this band of clear air to light up the brilliant yellow trees on the far bank. The color was made more dramtic by the darkness of the mist and fog. Gorgeous. The daisies are there to be picked.

Once, while driving at dawn I saw the end of the rainbow. It was part of a perfect weekend. We had been performing at a Windjammer Festival in Camden. As we came off of the stage Ann Dodson came up to me, laid her head on my shoulder and said, "I love to hear you sing." The next morning at dawn, while still flying from such a compliment, I was driving through the morning mist. the sun shone down and there, beside the road, was the end of the rainbow. I knew my pot of "gold" had been delivered the night before. It was a great weekend and full of such daisies.