But that's redundant isn't it.
Up north of here, it was probably a little bit warm last week. Those old valley oak trees tower over the landscape, and their leaves are probably hanging on. The farmlands surrounding it are being prepared for another round of planting for harvest next spring. The grass is still green, and the river runs quiet as autumn approaches. It was in this setting that a young navy medical corpsman was buried in a town not far from where I grew up. James R. Layton, age 22, was described as an artist and healer. He died in the ambush in Ganjgal, attending to another Marine's wounds while in the line of fire.