It is just another morning in Plattsburgh, as I look over the Saranac River to the west with the outline of the Green Mountains rolling up in the distancne. Th sky is red, it is blue, it is all colors as the sun rises upp and replaces darkness and man made light with something purer. The river conintues to flow down towards the Lake, and keep it filled for all of us to enjoy.

I see man-made carinage everywhere I look, from the high-tension wires that run right through Plattsburgh, to houses that are rundown, to a river that gets little attention versus all of the value it actually provides to our great area. The air is still relatively fesh and pure, despite all our best attempts to pollute it with our cars and a dozen other things that lead it to be dirty.

I sit and I look at the mountains just past Grande Isle. I can't see what's exactly up there for sure, but I know there are people up there, many just getting up na dtrying to make a living. Some our at their kitchen table sipping cofee, some our out in the their barns taking care of one their most valuable assests, and some our just waking up to this beautiful new morning that will start a day that offers so much hope for a better tommorow.

Soon every tree around her will be bright colors, and fall will happen. Farms already have started to bring in many of their crops like the countless miles of corn that dots the roads. Fall is coming, despite the warm weather that is is sticking around. I look forward to the change and the promise of this morning for all eternity.