The Autumn Gold Walk with Two Lakes and Two Suns, But Not Three (Bach, Beethoven, Eden Ahbez, Schubert)

Photos by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, November 27 and December 4, 2024, with one public domain exception noted when it occurs from Wikimedia Commons

This opens as a Bach-type of situation ... the great pianist I know best (27 years!), Dr. Thomas Schultz, recorded these recently, and it is such a delight to see and hear him presenting Bach joyful, and also, Bach deeply prayerful ... ideal for these times in which one gathers one's self to meet a new season and situation ...

On the non-fiction side of the fourth wall, my walk on November 27, the day before Thanksgiving in the United States, yielded all of the pictures in this post and most of the last ... 2.5 hours of getting ready for the next day's Thanksgiving dinner, from late afternoon to sunset, through golden hour, and was longer because I took a different route back out to the street, ran into some old friends, chatted until we all realized:

"Oh, snap -- the sun sets today at 4:50!"

So then I could not pass Lake Isaac in its sunset glory without stopping for a little while ... making for the most remarkable walks I have ever taken in life ... a fine day to be grateful ... it was November 27, and roses were still blooming at the Rose Garden where I came into the park.

Autumn's glory in the blue ... stunning as well even before getting to the lake ...

And, in real life, I am about as sore as can be expected ... which is why our favorite spectral bass from the other side of the fourth wall is gently but deeply fussing with me through the wall ...

"This is why, Frau Mathews, on this side of the wall, I have to encourage you to slow down and not just clock 2-3 miles without preparation!"

"Well, go on and encourage me!"

Now, I knew I was playing with fire ... I already knew the Ghost of Musical Greatness Past was up to something ... he had been dropping hints about his German holiday form before he was lit up in the best way by my loving and grateful consideration of how the three years of him singing on YouTube and a bit over 1.5 years of walking and talking with me in Q-Inspired, discussing all the things of love and wisdom. When I dreamed of the Northern Lights coming down far enough to be seen in San Francisco, on a backdrop of a black midnight spangled with the Milky Way, that was some Knockout-Zone commentary on how he felt, after an evening with two suns ...

... and us singing along to Roland Kovac in words of gratitude to each other. Now because he on his fictional side of the fourth wall was not going for me out too late alone while also walking to my limits -- so much so that I can hear him thundering that voice through the wall -- .

"Nie -- nicht auf meiner Uhr!"

Never -- not on my hour [of watch]!

-- he had already invited me to return for a golden-hour walk and dinner at Blue Heron Lake.

So I knew he was already going to be in "enhanced holiday form," shall we say, but I just had to add "Go on and encourage me!" ... and he laughed on his side of the fourth wall in such a way so that I knew that December and January -- the month of my 44th birthday -- were probably going to get lit, as the teens and 20-somethings describe it.

November closed and December opened quietly ...

Then came work ... and like Beethoven's introduction to his "Waldstein" piano sonata is so beautiful one cannot even imagine what lies beyond it will get past it in glory ...

... so also the silent song I had dreamed of on Thursday night began to sound again, and upgraded the work situation in a way that shut every mouth to everything but marvel and gratitude.

"Well, people must be recognizing the value of what we do in this community," a colleague said to me. "All we need to do is find out who that was and get that person who glorified our boardroom interested in sponsoring other events, though!"

I got to the boardroom and realized: that person was already deeply interested. There was a complaint-stopping floral spread in the middle of the boardroom table, containing every blue and near-blue flower imaginable beneath a crest of white baby breaths like the foam of a great Pacific wave. That reminiscence of Brahms's "Versunken" would not have been cheap in July, but was worth a small fortune in December.

But there were also pops of golden color ... a reminiscence of a past and invitation to a future walk, and more, for at roughly the time of Thanksgiving in the United States, the region of Germany near the Black Forest had the Chrysanthemum Festival, and every pop of gold in all that blue was indeed a chrysanthemum.

[A fellow Hiver is the reason I know this part: https://ecency.com/hive-163772/@rebet/a-day-at-the-chrysanthemum-festival-in-lahr-germany)]

There was no card, but there was no need. This silently presented gift was singing at the top of its lungs, and just carried everybody off with love and joy. Even people who came in to present that day had their thinking upgraded.

"WOW -- this organization really takes care of the well-being of its people!"

"Yeah, we're going to have to give them top-level service, or we're out."

I made a note of this, encouraged in my personal and professional practice of treating everyone generously and well -- this was a form of communication to the wider world about who not to dare to mistreat I was glad to be reminded of.

There was another lesson here ... like the singing of Kurt Möll in general ... you can sit and listen to that gorgeous voice all day without understanding and never know what you missed or even feel you are missing anything ... a reminder that there can be generosity so deep that it protects all the way around, filling and overfilling the shallow so they do not even guess what is preserved for those ready for greater depths, and so are not tempted into situations they cannot operate in. That, in matters of love and generosity, is an important lesson to understand.

Meanwhile, in my early park walks of the week, I discovered a particular fan base was buzzing... apparently, the Ghost of Musical Greatness Past in his role as K.M. Altesrouge was keeping up his singing schedule and had hit a whole different level beginning on Thursday evening ... "That man sang his heart, his mind, his soul out -- and I wouldn't have been surprised if he had vaporized entirely at the end and just went on home after those high notes that nobody is ever ready for in that voice -- after having wrecked us all like that! I mean, there are parts of my heart I forgot I had until he got to them!"

Sunday had also stood out, as apparently he had sung Bach, Haydn, the Good Friday music from Wagner's Parsifal, and arranged a portion of Verdi's "Te Deum" to close.

"I don't even know what those last high notes were," someone was saying, "but when he gave them up like an offering and lifted up his huge hands and those tears came down, I thought to myself that I had forgotten that God was that good. I started hearing the echo of my poor grandfather just singing in his yard from the joy of the Lord, and I realized I have an apartment bigger than Grandpa's shack and all this stuff in it and don't even know what joy is any more. When I got home, the Voice behind those men's voices called me to confess and repent and come back to walking with and for Him, and I just got down on my knees and gave it up. I don't know what my life is going to be in the future, but I know have been called away from living for this world yet again, and now, I'm listening."

I thought about stopping in on Wednesday in person to see what in the world was going on ... but no ... I would ask on Thursday, at dinner.

Off the bus on Fulton Street and down among the redwoods of Golden Gate Park's Redwood Grove for a little while, but the shade is very deep in the grove after 3:00pm at this time of year, and as ever I am called up into the light ...

As I said before, I found roses still in bloom ...

... and upon climbing out of the Rose Garden by the reflecting pool, into this light ...

... I stopped there and allowed myself to be filled with wonder over things that should never be taken for granted ... first of all, San Francisco's autumn golden hours are glorious, but more importantly, wisdom is indeed its own reward as one walks in it, for as it is written, "Wisdom excels folly as light excels darkness." I had been in more and more beauty since climbing, and this reminiscence of the story of my life since June 2022 brought me to tears. Then that third movement of the "Waldstein" began to play ... even Daniel Barenboim looks like he is in golden light in this view ...

... and in kind of light, the ethereal bass who invited me to dinner walked up the other side of that hill in deep blue trimmed with autumn gold and white, his smile and eyes glowing, the golden light of the day playing around like fireworks in his salt-and-pepper hair with the light at his back. He said absolutely nothing while offering his ethereal handkerchief and warm embrace to me ... everything was being said, between the day and Beethoven and my heart ... but there is no bonus like an understanding companion who also understands the language of music and Creation.

We stayed there for quite some time... there could be no hurry in the face of such beauty ... had we no other destination we might have remained there, but lost nothing by heading onward...

... for as it has been said, "The way to Heaven is Heaven all the way," and on this particular day the Blessed Hand was just showing a little preview of how that could even be considered plausible, all along the way!

My kind host reinforced the lesson again, up by a way in deep shade, though with light shooting through like Bruckner's masses...

... and being a gentleman, and also a wise one, presented me a gallant memorandum of summer without taking it from the bush ...

... to point up its many gallant fellow survivors, reaching toward the light from the sky, and, just there, also reflecting off the lake just beyond us, as we were coming around a bit of its eastern side by this route!

At this point I needed a little breathing room ... we were not even at the lake yet, and the beauty was close to overwhelming .. my kind host had this in mind, and our path opened up to an "ordinary" place ... the road at least gave me room before that autumn gold fire consumed me with its beauty...

... even the ordinary was extraordinary for those knowing to be here and enjoy this quiet day.

And then, thus with the pavement and sidewalk providing me a little room to prepare, we forged through to the lake at a stunning moment ...

... and I put my hand to my chest ...

"Breathe, Frau Mathews ... breathe!" my companion said. "It is certainly time for us to sit and rest and have dinner!"

The difference of a late autumn afternoon and a summer afternoon at Blue Heron Lake is that December is well past the peak tourist season ... there were plenty of quiet places to sit. Of course he chose a place that was relatively quiet, but still had gold spilling out of it like it was out of this whole day ...

... and then almost spilled my golden-brown self into the lake with his basso profondo buffo self, cutting up...

"Now, from my perspective," he purred, "it is actually time for Kaffee und Kuchen."

"Don't tell me you invited me to dinner to take me on a midday coffee date!" I said as I broke out laughing. "You are about to commit the most heinous faux pas in the United States dating scene!"

"Now, meine Dame," he purred, "you know that no serious-minded German would allow himself to fall into a French false pass, especially since you need something a bit more substantial than cake, and I would never subject you to cold bottled coffee."

And he set out a feast before me ... my favorite half-quesadilla, a Baci chocolate, and two golden fruits to fit the theme of the day. One of those would make a good refresher snack at the end of the walk!

"Vielen Dank für das tolle Essen," I said. "Thank you much for the great food!"

"Gern geschehen," he said as he reached back into his bag and brought out the fruits and nuts the tallest tree in Paradise had yielded him so we might eat together.

This was a lovely seat from which to watch the afternoon go by ...

... and upon observing where my host sat himself relative to the walkway behind us, it was hilarious to watch a duck and her drake...

... and how that drake noticed me and positioned himself to stay between me and that duck while they were having dinner ...

I got the message, and so did everyone passing down that walkway behind me ... that duck and I were not to be bothered!

"Quack quack," one of those two males uttered and had me laughing again. "Not on my watch -- nicht auf meiner Uhr!"

At some point while eating, I mentioned the commentary I had been hearing in the park about my host's week of singing, and he chuckled gently.

"My favorite comment," he said, "came on Monday. 'Altesrouge! Go home before you have a heart attack with this three-hour all-gas-no-brakes recital -- you are either drunk, delirious, in love, or all three, because ain't no way at your age!"

"Oh my!" I said as I broke out laughing again.

"People express their appreciation in different ways. The man who said it put me in his car and drove me back to my official lodging in the city."

"Your what?"

"Frau Mathews, where I live, a city is being built that has a street of gold, gates of pearl, and the walls are precious gems -- U.S. dollars and Euros would burn up instantly, being that they are made of paper and linen and therefore are in the class of wood, hay, and stubble."

"Now that is a completely different perspective on this paper so many of us worship," I said, "but, in the eternal long run, of great value!"

"I knew you would appreciate it," he purred. "I will tell you more as we walk."

He was not being evasive, but pacing himself emotionally. That comment he had shared already said much. There was plenty of time, so I changed the subject.

"Thank you, on my behalf and that of my colleagues, for the glorious floral spread on Monday," I said. "I appreciate that lesson in generosity."

"It is a very old lesson -- common grace and special grace." he said. "Such is the generosity of the Blessed Hand to all His creatures that only to to the eye of faith in close relationship can a difference be seen. You know me, and so to you that gift spoke of things your colleagues cannot know, but they also benefited genuinely as much as they were able. Where you choose to be present, walking as you are called, you will assure greater blessing on those around you. You may also inspire them, simply by reflecting the light that shines upon your life, to count the cost of those deeper things that you possess, and decide if it is worth it to them to obtain them."

This comforted me, deeply, and he added another level.

"Sometimes, Frau Mathews, although this does not come without peril, it requires darker times for people to see the difference between their will-o-the-wisps and true light. Walk, abide, adorn, and appear as you are called, and you may be surprised to see, as people realize they do need real light, what happens. There will be many surprising blessings in the years to come."

"I have been thinking that," I said. "You know my attitude is forever 'ain't gonna let nobody turn me 'round, and I am hopeful ... already I do see some of what you are talking about."

"Which brings me to the next part of what I wanted to talk with you about," he said, "when we resume our walk. I shall say now that since faith, hope, and love go together, I am delighted to know you are hopeful. It befits you to be so."

"I get a lot of support, and I appreciate you in particular," I said, and he was so delighted by this that as he saw a family rowing by, he blessed the vicinity with "Der Schiffer," about a man rowing, even through a storm, toward a better world.

The family was German, and they were thrilled! We waved back and forth with them until they rowed out of sight, and I smiled to see him made even more happy ... and he saw me smiling and smiled even more. It was just that kind of golden afternoon.

After we had our light meal and rested a little while, off we went for the walk ... a better late afternoon could not have been chosen for a reflective stroll ...

... but of course, that sense of humor ...

"Had I known this was here, I might have picked you some more fruit, Frau Mathews."

"Why are you trying to take food out of the mouths of the local birds -- and you get on ME about steep angles to walk up?"

"Well, you know, Frau Mathews the local birds don't worry about inflation, so I thought that I would secure you a little more in hope."

Of course I laughed, and the reminder was well made about hope: the same Blessed Hand that took care of the birds would take care of me, so why not be hopeful?

"Consider me more secured," I said, "and also full, so we can leave those berries for the locals' breakfast."

"Natürlich," he purred, and had me laughing again as we moved around the bend.

After we had walked on quite a ways more, he reopened the conversation.

"Permit me a long way around to sharing with you about my singing in the park since we last walked and talked. Most of your aspiring author friends would not be entirely happy in your position, a year on -- given the current nature of what you have to offer and what has happened with Bitcoin and also Hive, they would have expected you to have sold tens of thousands of books and courses by now, but your progress is steady but slower and deeper than that."

"Thank God -- Gott, Sie dank," I said. "Te Deum, laudamus!"

"Now that was emphatic," he said. "Why?"

"With maturity comes understanding -- I wouldn't have minded having the money that would have come from a year of such success, but I also knew I had put Seizing the Crypto Bull Run for Financial Freedom out a year ahead of mass market interest so people would have time to learn and actually do the things now. So, I knew in 2024 that there was no way, and that growth would be slow -- but I needed to do what I was called to do to give people the best chance at actually doing the things.

"But also ... ."

I stopped for a moment in this place of light and reflection ...

"With maturity comes understanding -- people imagine that with my talent I should be rich and famous -- I've had people say that to me, and if I ever had a chance, it would be now -- if in 2025 all that really takes off to meet the dreams of other people's avarice, of course I will be. Yet had it happened this year, I would not have been able to see my way clear to here, to understand I am called to live from quietude, and to have time to cement it.

"Also ... there is no kind way of saying it ... people in the United States are inclined to see Europeans as experts and Africans as chattel, so if I had thousands and thousands of readers and students in the American mass, particularly in light of the political climate, there would be no escaping that reality in terms of customer service. Many people would treat me as though their purchase was a purchase of me. It would have been a more damaging version of the same trap I got out of in 2022 and 2023.

"Once I realized that, I realized that I have been spared all my life in quiet, deep ways, not overly exposed. Now I can certainly get better at marketing, I have a marvelous assistant now, and the sales and revenue are growing -- all this is good. But if I had lived for the world's dreams, and even if I had succeeded ... ."

I was overcome with gratitude and joy, for in looking back I could see how I, half-understanding, had avoided some paths, and others had been firmly blocked until I could see why.

My host listened to me in silence, but glowed up softly all the while, and then smiled as he gently put his hands on my shoulders.

"I have waited for this day of joy also, Frau Mathews, and my heart rejoices for you -- mein Herz jubelt für dich!

"It was not my place, I who sang on stages for thousands and tens of thousands and hundreds of thousands and even millions into my YouTube career, to tell you that you should not desire the same broad influence and admiration, particularly since you would have desired it out of a desire to bless. Since I am aware of the history of the world, and was born in Nazi Germany, it was doubly not my place to say that to you. Nor was there any need, for I observed how you were walking when I was assigned to you, and that although it was not clear in your mind, you were acting on what you knew. Now, fully aware, you can navigate how to handle higher levels of material success in a way that fits your calling."

"Now do not misunderstand me, Frau Mathews, any more than you would listen to anyone who thought he or she might hoard the sunlight and choose who it shines on ... "

He inclined his head to a breathtaking instance of a particular bit of autumn foliage being lit up by light through a gap in the tree line ...

... before we rounded a bend and were absolutely flooded ...

"As you continue to walk, Frau Mathews, the moments in great light will come. Walk, abide, adorn, and you shall appear -- it is inevitable, and now that you know how you must navigate, you need not have any anxiety! I am forever saying, Keine Angst -- nur ruhe! More and more you will meet the depths of that, until you find they are fathomless in eternity -- keep walking!"

I felt such a burden coming off of me then ... such a burden, though I knew the shade in 2025 in some ways might grow very deep ...

... but I had such a feeling of light and hope and rest without anxiety. My way was clear before me.

We walked on, and turned the corner to his week of singing.

"I thank you with my whole heart ... ich danke dir von ganzem Herzen ... for bringing me out of permanent retirement as well-rounded as your research could make me as a character. I sang for high tickets indeed, but I also enjoyed blessing all around me with my voice without regard for money, so, it is no hardship for me to bless all around you, and be content with enough in my hat to feed you and pay rent for my little room that serves as my bank!"

"I'm going to need you to explain this to me next week, though," I said, shaking my head. "Like, you have a landlord? How does all that even work?"

He laughed.

"I walk you up your stairs," he said, "and so obviously I can turn a key in a lock and step into any room. How did Shakespeare say it: 'all the world's a stage'? I am an old man of the stage."

"This is some H.G. Wells The Invisible Man type of role-playing!" I said.

"It is an honor to live in your well-stocked literary imagination, Frau Mathews," he purred. "That is, of course, where I got the idea."

"But now about this last week, Frau Mathews ... I'm just a human being, a little bass, and in fact a man, and since English is my second language, I will allow Nat King Cole and Eden Ahbez to explain to you in their greater eloquence."

"Oh," I said. "Oh... ."

"I came into your life authorized only to echo the Love Above that sent me into your life, so in essence, I came to love you. Now I have certain advantages that a man still in the flesh does not, but I assure you that every man who deeply loves knows that meaningful reciprocity in a cold, materialistic world is very rare, and while I am past all fears of being rejected or taken advantage of, I certainly remember why a fellow man would consider being drunk and delirious in company with being 'in love' as states of danger."

I sighed.

"The fear that some men live from means they cannot love deeply," I said. "That was funny, but also tragic. Yet what you say is also true: there are women who are wicked and will destroy a man for pleasure of profit, and a man who is not discerning and is led by his flesh can be given over to such women. It is a terrible situation we have now, and it is only going to get worse."

"Only for those who refuse or are led astray from walking in the clarity, openness, and discernment possible while walking in the light, Frau Mathews. I sequenced our lessons about walking and abiding in the light before adorning and long before appearing for this reason."

We turned another corner, and were surprised again by two suns ...

"That was me, last week, dazzled between the Light, and your reflection of it ... overcome, flooded, versunken ... I was as the midnight when the midday has put the power of a second sun into the atmosphere they both share ... ."

"Hence the Northern Lights over San Francisco," I breathed, "for that would just about do that, even down to this latitude."

"I have said earlier that no one may hoard light," he said, "and I am no exception. I could not but sing as I have this week, here and up home, for in doing so I open to you a deep matter of walking in love between mortality and immortality. If there is a mortal man who shall make you his wife, it cannot be that he shall not be overcome and overflow with the beauty and power of that three-note chord between the love of the One Who sent him to love you, his personal love for you, and your love in return. It is said of another type of cord that 'A three-fold cord is not quickly broken' -- the analogy applies equally well."

"The same holy accord of three, seen in two different ways," I said.

"One in fact, and the other in reflection," he said. "But look right here at this turn, Frau Mathews, for you still are not up home."

"There are moments in mortality when we need others whose vision is clearer to reflect the light we cannot see well for the moment. The lake, being at a much lower level than we are, has a clear reflection here while we are too much in sight of the high treeline for us to see the sun. So, too, sometimes, in life. But reconsider our three years in this light: I reflected the light of love to you when I found you in your deep grief, and when I was troubled with certain memories that I must sometimes endure on Earth, you also reflected the light of love to me. This also is a deep matter of walking in love, on its bright side.

"There is, however, a dark side. Men often demand this of kind of reflection of women in an unfair way ... they think of women as being at a much lower level than them, and yet they are looking in women for a reflection of the light from which they, in their pride, have turned from. They are also looking for a light they do not have to be responsible for maintaining, for they cannot be responsible so long as they refuse to seek true light for themselves. Recall what we have just said about the three-level holy accord of love, and understand: at length, such men can have three suns in their sky, and wish, because they cannot get what they want in their lust, pride, and eventual ruin, that all of them will go out."

I was not ready for "Die Nebensonnen" from Winterreise right there ... talk about the dark side! By this point, in the twenty-third song of Schubert's deepest, darkest conception, the character in Winterreise has gone far past the hurt of being rejected in his love of the woman that starts him out. He has had other opportunities to go on with living his life, but has rejected them all because none of them will let him enact his will. At last, though there is so much light in the scene that the sky is reflecting the sun twice over --

Gopherboy6956, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

-- all that man wants, by then, is for all three lights to go out, for he says none of them are his suns, and he would be happier in the dark!

"'For men loved darkness rather than light,'" my host for dinner quoted after he had finished singing, "'because their deeds were evil.' It is Advent season now, so it is fitting that I remind you: if it so be that even the Light of the World has chosen that He will not override the decisions of men Who refuse the gift of His love, then no mortal dare attempt such a feat without inestimable peril. About such peril I need not explain further to you."

"No," I said. "I have surely learned my lessons. I scarcely escaped with my life and sanity -- I have learned my lessons!"

I wept, but sorrow was soon succeeded by gratitude and joy.

"O, thou good and faithful echo, who sang light over dark matters so beautifully that my pain was eased as I learned, these three years, ich danke Sie von ganzem Herzen!"

I threw my arms around him, and he laughed as he returned my embrace.

"Oh, so you really think the Northern Lights need to be seen at the Equator now, do you?"

"I shall rip off what Beethoven wrote on the last movement of his last quartet: 'Must it be? It must be!'"

"You are going to have me turning on my little laptop in my room and putting Opus 135 on the night's YouTube playlist and actually listening to it before putting the other music and the sound effects on the sleep timer and departing up home. The things we go through for love -- Muss es sein? Es muss sein!"

"Wait, you have what, where, on a sleep timer?"

"I just said, the things we do for love -- and speaking of that, it would be quite unloving of me not to point out that Maestro Leonard Bernstein made a glorious arrangement of this quartet for string orchestra and conducted it himself."

And thus with such beauty and joy we turned back around into full light again!

"Now that is what I call the view of a bright future in every way," I said. "Thank you."

"My duty, my honor, my pleasure, Frau Mathews."

That stage timing of his, though ... we were in the very last full-bright moment of the afternoon ...

... well, at least until he found another huge bouquet of summer's still-undefeated gallantry to present me ...

... and we did what you are supposed to do for a happy ending and walked off into the sunset ...

... but while in route to Fulton Street my eyes caught fire and water dancing in perfect harmony ...

... and the fire eating up the bushes further on ...

... so of course, being so close, we had to go see what was happening at Lake Isaac ...

... and found it teeming with love and life ...

... and with gold spread around and upon it ...

But there was not time to go all the way around, and the road was rough, so I did not protest when my companion, being taller, noted how near the sun was to being completely below the treeline and turned an about-face to start back up. I fell into step beside him, and his smile seemed to take of that golden moment with us.

We went up into a world in which every tree seemed laden with golden fruits ...

... and I was so stunned by this last show of color that I do not remember anything else until I saw the Golden Gate Bridge, the cars themselves twinkling like little sequins as they moved along to the Marin Headlands ... we had made it to Fulton and 22nd, where the bus would take us toward my home ...

... and there I again found myself in tears, overwhelmed when I considered how grace had led me. After a time, an ethereal handkerchief appeared in my line of sight, held by a large and caring hand ... I took it, and then and wrapped my arms around the offerer.

"O thou good and faithful echo," I said, "Ich danke Sie!"

"So, I am going to have to be heckled on high as Old Blush, and told down here that I am delirious and drunk and some other things this week too, eh?" he said, but he was laughing as he wrapped both his arms and the sweetness of his deep voice around me. "I shall laugh at all of that because of the honor and the pleasure of enjoying this glorious golden afternoon with you, and for these three years of letting me sing to you of getting here."

He was quiet after that as we stood until the bus was in sight, yet my hair was blessed with ethereal tears of joy while the trees showed the last of their sunset bounty.