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The Sun Magazine

Editor's Note

Leaves

A dry autumn wind rustles the leaves; I brood over my life, as if it were something apart from me. Here, some pages from my journal, from a melancholy time, from the season that reminds me seasons come and go:

Editor's Note

A few years ago — uncertain about the direction The Sun should take, out of money, low on faith — I got some wonderful advice from my friend Karl Grossman: “Just keep doing it.”

Editor's Note

The pipes are frozen, there’s a half-inch of snow inside the door, and instead of the steady stream of visitors there’s only me, Betsy, and Richard, who braved a foot of snow on the roads to drive here (in North Carolina, that’s brave; schools here close at the threat of snow).