1. Our beautiful bride/neighbor Lexi kissing her groom outside the cookie store last week.
I imagine most folks don’t dress—or drive—that way going to pick up their chocolate chips.
2. The ability to laugh. And continuous reasons for that joyful ability.
What do you have to laugh about today? 
3. Grandson Matthew and his Plant Cell School Project made out of household trash.
4. Going out into Washington Square near our place here in Historic District Savannah last evening to read, about 7 PM, and realizing, with the darkness, that it’s definitely getting later in the year.
Here’s my first attempt at the above photo. Photographer Hubby Robert could explain. But I can’t. But I still kinda like the result.
5. Art!
Colorful beauty at the Columbus (Georgia) Museum of Art last weekend. 
A blog category of pics I’ve taken of HR (Hubby Robert) and … well, just about anything.
So because of Hurricane Helene and NO POWER, Robert and I had to get outta Dodge (well, Savannah). So we hightailed it over to Columbus, Georgia, where younger daughter Emily lives.
Before going over to visit (and bother) Emily, we drove to downtown Columbus and the Chattahoochee River to see what we heard was “a tumultuous scene.” This “scene” was caused by the city having to open the floodgates to relieve the pressure, so as to avert further dangerous flooding in the Columbus area.
“Open the floodgates?” Perhaps you didn’t know Columbus had a dam. (Yes I said the word … “dam”— alternate spelling, “damn.”)
OK, enough of this silly rigamarole.
Here’s a short film, entitled “The Two R’s – the Damn River and Robert” …
As you can probably tell, Robert had no idea I was producing this award-winning film. 
1. Savannah doors and windows showing off their living beauty near us.
2. The ability to recognize beauty as such.
3. My friend Riboclavin (long story about his unusual moniker, for another time) and his breakfast this morning in Munich, Germany where he is visiting.
4. Speaking of breakfast, my Apple Cobbler for Two this morning from provincial Savannah. 
5. Another look at Approaching Autumn (see yesterday‘s post) on my walk earlier this morning.

May you approach, and be approached by, Beauty this weekend. 
Approaching Autumn often finds me in what I call (probably foolishly) my Melancholy Joy Frame of Mind or Temperament: 50% Despondency at Summer’s Goodbye and 50% Delight at Fall’s Coming Orange Cool.
And as I find myself getting close to Autumn this year, I realize that I too—and not just 2024—am in my September Stage of Life.
Approaching Autumn pulled no punches this morning when I unexpectedly ran into her in, of all places, the shared second floor hallway of our old Savannah apartment building.
About a week ago, Robert had placed a beautiful, summery-looking orange day lily with several blossoms in one of the hall windows.
This morn, when I opened our front door and walked out into the hallway, I saw her there in the window. Approaching Autumn herself.
I walked over cautiously to her. 
A bit dismayed at what I saw, I clumsily asked, “What’s going on? You don’t look like summer anymore.”
“Neal. It’s time. I’m Falling.”
“ I still don’t get it,” I complained. “You can’t just out of the blue … BE Fall. You are Summer.”
“Do I look like Summer now?”
I stood for a bit … stuck. In between seasons. HR growing anxious behind me to get on with our breakfast date.
Approaching Autumn, sensing my frustration, asked, “Weren’t you an English major in college? Didn’t you read Frost? He understood. Let him remind you:
I can’t say I completely and lovingly embraced her/his explanation. But I did find a melancholy beauty in its Truth.
I started to walk away when Approaching Autumn spoke her last: “And just so you know Neal, you don’t exactly look like summer anymore either.”
But she smiled as she made the comment. I released some pent-up tension and paid her back with a new season Melancholy Joy smile of my own.
“Let’s go,” I said to Robert.
And with creaky knees, I tackled the narrow 1850s stairwell and headed outside into yet another new day.
NealEnJoy 