Back from Baxter S.P.

If I am alone in the woods, do I hear the trees falling on Wall Street? The quick answer is "hell, no"--which is precisely the point of our annual pilgrimage to South Branch Pond Campground. No TV or radio, no e-mail, no phone calls. Just roll out of our sleeping bags at dawn and climb above treeline in the crisp morning air, far from the madding crowd. Saunter back to the campground in the late afternoon and slow-fry some quesadillas. Maybe go for a paddle after supper to check out the loons at the far end of the pond. Life is simple and sweet.

Still, I know the trees are falling. They were falling before we left and are not yet done falling. While we were gone, Lehman Bros. tried to sell itself to the Asians, who are holding out for a better price. They just might get it. Meanwhile Merrill Lynch, Goldman Sachs, and Deutsche Bank became the latest investment firms to fess up to government regulators. They agreed to buy back auction-rate securities that had been improperly peddled to clients earlier this year. The industry-wide tally has reached $50 billion in buybacks and over half a billion in fines. Finally, Fannie and Freddie came ever closer to issuing super-senior debt to taxpayers like you and me. Even though we don't want it.

From the top of Bald Mountain (there is no trail, so we had to bushwhack) could be seen the winding course of the East Branch of the Penobscot, the riverbanks finely tinged with crimson in an otherwise broad green expanse, the first faint traces of autumn. Much wider and deeper runs the red ink on Wall Street.