I truly believe that these November days we are experiencing in Minnesota are nothing but pure gift. To have what is often the gloomiest month of the year be filled with sun, warm temperatures, green grass, the bluest sky, seems something it would be a shame not to savor. And I see people doing just that everywhere I look.

Yesterday as I took a late afternoon walk, I watched children playing at the nearby playground. They were running with such abandon on the jungle gym, chasing one another as their giggles streamed behind them as they flew. At the nearby basketball court, two young men were squeezing the last sweet moments out of an outdoor game. And countless people were walking their dogs. The people talked intently, feeling the warm sun on their faces as they soaked up some needed vitamin D for the dark winter months we know will eventually come. I swear, even the dogs seemed to be smiling! Walking further I saw two mothers allowing their toddlers to run through the woods that flank the bluff above the Mississippi River. The little voices screamed with laughter as they made their way through what, in darkness, must seem a very frightening place.

And that's when I saw him. A man walking so purposefully I was drawn to his gait. His head was held strong and straight. His arms swung with a rhythm I imagined matched his heartbeat. He was walking with sure intention toward the bluff's overlook. Crossing the street, he headed into the mowed, open, hilly area that is ringed with beautiful, old oak trees standing watch over the boat traffic that makes its way from the cold of north all the way to the warm winds of the south.

It was about 4:45 p.m. and he was headed toward the setting of the sun. His purposeful steps were bringing him closer to a magnificent view of the giant orange ball of fire that had held court over this most glorious of days. I, too, began to watch its descent in the hot pink afternoon glow of the horizon. I saw his silhouette against the sky as he planted his feet firmly to watch the end of day become reality.

I wondered what he was thinking as he walked with such purpose, as he stood in reverence at the sun's majesty in a sky that had held us all. This one man seemed to be walking for the rest of us, those too busy to stop, to notice, to pay homage to the gift of this precious day. A day never to be lived or given to us again. I hope he was saying the psalm that should have been on all our lips: