Falling Leaves Bring Thanksgiving

The falling leaf ushered in the chill of winter and none could deny it's presence. The cool air through screened windows, that so recently tickled our nose, is now gone, and the present chill, now contained within outer walls. Color has left these days, and only remains within a memory or creative thought. What will we do to keep merriment alive?
"Give thanks," for this is the time. Sad, how we box in a single day for such. Thanksgiving should walk congruently with our daily life; for page can not contain gratitude. Most days, my mind is like a dump truck that's coming to an abrupt stop and all that it once contained, is now swirling through the air....most of it, junk. Like an "American Picker," it takes time and appreciation to seek out the true gems.
So today, as in everyday that the Lord permits to bless me with, I shall "take time" to seek out, be still and give thanks.
For starters, thanks Dad for "this" day, You didn't have to make it. Thanks for a dreary sky that gives me breath, and leads me to someplace warm. Thanks for this coffee which makes me smile and the creativity that flows as I sip from its cup. Thank You for all those who gather in, and the style they bring; I love to watch Your "Wemicks" gather stars. And speaking of stars, though hidden behind a curtain of grey, they still remain. Thank You for Your faithfulness. As I write, I am warm, my coat at my side and music in my ears. Listen to the violin and the piano play, the gifted lyricists and the songs they sing. The guitar that carries the rhythms of praise....listen, it's all around; I am grateful, I am blessed.
I see the father and son, always together they come...thanks for that. I see two friends embrace for something to me unknown, thank You for that. Artwork on the walls portraying a thought, thank You for that. Laughter of friends and fire in eyes, thank You for that. The barista serving others and the smile she brings, thank You for that. Your word that rests at my side, a promise and the bedrock for my praise, thank You for that.
What will keep merriment alive? For me, giving thanks each of my days. "Cold-chilled winter, bring your sting, for their is a warmth in my heart and upon my lips, a song of praise. Father-Daddy, I love this day." I give thanks.