I came home for my favorite holiday- Thanksgiving. After the harvest, before the gray cold. Everything is settling down for a winters' nap, and there's a stillness and a quality of light that are just not present during the rest of the year. I love it here, where I was born. The grape leaves are still on the vines, but they deepen in color every day. When we first got here, they were a bright and clear yellow, and within a few days, they've mostly turned to firey reds and golden browns. This place where I grew up looks like a giant patchwork quilt, with the vines criss-crossing like stitches on the valley floor. There are barns with green tin roofs at the corners of some of the patches. Horses and cows dot the soft landscape. Right now I can imagine snuggling down under that big quilt, and resting with the earth. There has been no moon- just so many stars. I had forgotten about all these stars. I am truly thankful for this valley, for this view. I look around, and the world is at peace...