A Free-Flowing Unfinished Post-Thanksgiving List of Things for Which I'm Grateful (Page 1 of 1)

I love the way Ma Nature wears her trees, wild and tangled, blowing in the breeze, or in orderly rows groomed for renewable harvest.

I'm thankful for leaves that spangle autumn trails.

For hippies old and young who camp in the crowns of ancient trees and call attention to wasteful harvests.

For volunteer fire departments and service clubs and food pantries.

For big round bales of hay softening the scenery.

For people who bike or walk to work.

I'm thankful that one may write, "Our government lied to us," as I've done many times in this very space, without fearing a knock in the night.

For the American Civil Liberties Union and others who keep such knocks at bay by speaking the truth about torture and loss of civic rights.

I'm thankful that even simple-minded phrases like "Love it or leave it" imply the liberty to come and go and the existence of people not afraid to speak their minds.

For Cindy Sheehan, the Dixie Chicks, Rep. Ron Paul, Sen. Dennis Kucinch and others who stand up to be counted.

For autumn festivals and county fairs with their Tilt-A-Whirls and dart games and prizewinning melons and beauty contests and freak shows.

To the sweet waitress who cried after my last visit ever with my Tuesday night writing group to the late, lamented Charlie Pepper's restaurant.

I'm thankful that it's possible to ponder six impossible things before breakfast while reading the daily blogs.

To live in a place where strangers say "Bless your heart" or "What can I get for you, Honey?"

For free-range chickens and pumpkin soup and tacos and sushi and okra and pickled beets and turkey dressing and gravy.

A country where Mom and Dad and Junior and Sis dress up on Sunday mornings and go some place to think on eternity and goodness and imbibe inspiring music and commune with neighbors.

To those who keep it real by embracing the revelations of science and seek to know the pure teachings of Jesus and the Sermon on the Mount and Buddha and the Upanishads and take the things they read, sing and listen to in a spirit of wonder and generosity and metaphors to ponder.

To those who refrain from turning plowshares into swords.

For the goofball optimism of politicians with no chance of winning who still run for president just to put good ideas on the table.

For a country where ordinary folks start new businesses and often mean it when they tell their children, "You can become anything you put your mind to."

Where amid all the blather and shouting it's still possible to hear reasoned debate or just good conversation and absorb light amid all the heat.

Where lightning bugs float from the ground in timeless choreography flashing neon gold upon summer eve's black velvet.

For hummingbirds, herons, woodpeckers and doves I've beheld all in one summer run.

I'm thankful for “America the Beautiful” and "Summertime" and "Cry Me A River" and "Just A Closer Walk with Thee" and "Georgia On My Mind" and "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" and "Big Yellow Taxi" and "Stardust" and "My Girl" and "What A Wonderful World" and "Me and Bobby McGhee" and "An American In Paris" and a thousand more pearls from an amazing sea of musical traditions.

For a country where it's possible to believe in evolution AND God, a free market AND universal health care, the welfare of troops AND world peace, a clean environment AND jobs, the need for highways AND open spaces.

A country where some flaunt sensuality while others maintain dignified reserve.

I'm grateful for a history sprinkled with bigger-than-life characters such as Ben Franklin, Sam Houston, Mark Twain, Crazy Horse, Walt Whitman, Mother Jones, Woody Allen, Bob Dylan, Marilyn Monroe, Elvis, Ken Kesey, Johnny Cash, Katherine Hepburn and Jerry Garcia.

For a nation of independent men, liberated women and freed slaves.

I'm grateful to whistle blowers who keep us honest.

To revisionists who point out the flaws in history, yes, starting with Columbus, and tell stories true all the way through so we may know what really happened to the Cherokee and the Sioux and African Americans and the buffalo and passenger pigeons and what's happening to polar bears and salamanders.

I'm thankful for stellar wizardry that pierced the rings of Saturn, launched humans to the moon, peered to the edges of space and time and gave us that sacred icon of our times, the Whole Earth.

I savor It Happened One Night and Double Indemnity and Intolerance and The Wanderers and Blade Runner and Casablanca and Jerry Maguire and Star Trek and Northern Exposure. And sacred phrases that roll down the ages, "We hold these truths to be self-evident…" and "When in the course of human events…" and "Four score and seven years ago."

For freedom to protest and fuss and love with abandon, dance in the streets, play our music loud and shout at those who play our music loud, to gather together and roast turkeys and play touch football and fly kites and howl at the moon and…

As I said, it's an unfinished list, like our unfinished world.

Thanks be for all of it, especially the sweet, inspiring people I'm blessed to live my life around. You know who you are.

* The views expressed in Commentary do not necessarily reflect those of Knoxville Voice.