The annual October / November Western Pennsylvania burst of beauty never fails to take my breath. A morning's drive to work is just a bit more glorious this time of year, a walk in the woods near to divine.

Kiski Valley autumns perform so beautifully, a majestic auburn stage of wind-brushed hills. An overflow of reds and yellows amidst greenish remnants of this summer near gone by. Scrambled tree limbs sending down Fall's closing glories, leaves drifting and swirling their defiant decent, a final dance of season end and winter's whisper.

A cast of a thousand thousands falling upon generations gone before, presenting this inevitable annual encore of life and death, and life, upon pathways of mossy rock and rich brown earth. Bushy-tailed attendants rustle wind drifts of oak and maple for a season's scrabbling of acorn and pine nut.

Sweet wisps of early season fireplaces lace the woods hanging lines of white smoke a part of the way up the hills. Whitetails, nose to wind, slip silently on the ridges vanishing into tangles of brush and deadfall. What a wonderful time of the year.

My young daughter took me for a walk in the woods once. There, amidst the full glory of autumn's dance, we searched for the prettiest leaves. She had plans to take them home, to press them and save them. So there, on my knees in the forest, she and I compared leaves for proper color variations, my daughter dancing and laughing with glee over our great expedition, and I, seeing the woods again through the eyes of a child.

So thank God for autumn and for little children. What would we do without them. Autumn grants us a brief but rich taste of the glory of creation before our bitter winter seasons. And children, well, children just help us remember how special autumn is here in the Kiski Valley. I hope your autumn is filled with such joys.