Oct. 14, 4:02 p.m. EDT —Full Hunters' Moon. With the leaves falling
and the deer fattened, it is time to hunt. Since the fields have been reaped,
hunters can ride over the stubble, and can more easily see the fox, along with
other animals, which have come out to glean and can be caught for a
thanksgiving banquet after the harvest.
[This is crossposted from Open Salon; I need to get that blog added to the little widget over there on the sidebar. I'm having a hard time deciding what belongs here, and what belongs there -- but since I've had nothing here for quite awhile, I'm porting...]
What does it mean to love one's country? Don't most of us love our country?
John McCain says that he loves this country, not just as a place, but as an idea.
In this, we agree. I'm sure there's some amount of academic writing out
there about this, but for the moment, I want to begin my exploration
where I am -- that is, with my own love of my own country, and how I
obtained it. As I grew, I learned what I was supposed to love about my
country; and later, what I was supposed to turn away from, in order to
love my country.