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October 18, 2001
The moon is waxing. Around Halloween it’s going to be a full one. I think it’s a blue moon this time. But what I notice is the turning of my oranges.

They’ll be ripe for Thanksgiving.

For six months, I’ve watched those green balls grow. Nurturing my tree. Adding fertilizer, a little potassium, lots of iron. And now my little green balls shimmer in the moonlight. They’re the brightest things in my backyard. Like nature’s own Christmas ornaments. The sun reflects off the moon, which reflects off my oranges. Watching the subtle changes in that tree is my second calendar.