October is the "Glory Month" with its flaming rockets of aspens' yellows and gold, spotted with reds and scarlets, browns, and bronze . . . It is slender cattails swaying with dignified grace in the autumn breeze near Layton.

October is walking weather. On a clear night when one reaches the top of the nearby hill, it seems as if the sky were an inverted bowl flecked with golden dots . . . From the top one can also see chapel spires making exclamation points among the surrounding aspens and box elders.October is the leaping flames and steady song of the fireplace. It is the crackling logs sounding like political orators - they argue, shout, and bluster. A fireplace cannot be hailed for its efficiency. Its chief purpose is, of course, to help a man dream his dreams.

It is the crispness in the air whether the sun shines or stratus clouds cast a gray hue over the valleys and mountains . . . And it is the plain, still, tawny grass on the town's lower slopes.

October is our Head Gardener reminding us that tender bulbs cannot endure freezing temperatures and that we must dig them and store indoors . . . It is also time to select a plump pumpkin for a lantern from the huge assortment available in the vegetable stands up on Willard's highway.

October is the early morning mist trailing up Provo Canyon so that when the sun comes up over the eastern foothills, Midway's adjoining Wasatch Mountains grow luminous and silvery and the ramrod-straight poplars stand like designs on an Oriental silk screen.