Just a blink ago, the view from my sunroom was a gorgeous riot of color. The lush of green morphed into various hues of golds, yellows, a bit of red and orange. Now the trees are increasingly bare, and my view includes more sky.
And I love it still.
Every phase and stage is beautiful.
Not everyone feels that way about November.
But I am here to sing its praises. As did e.e. cummings:
peering from some high
window; at the gold
of november sunset
(and feeling: that if dayhas to become night
this is a beautiful way)
It has been a busy fall, and November may or may not yield unexpected surprises. (#redundancy! Aren’t all surprises unexpected?!) I welcome whatever is to come and I revel in the uncommon beauty of the season. Trees unadorned speak to me in a language that is different than when covered with leaves. Maybe I just hear them better now.
The month of November makes me feel that life is passing more quickly. In an effort to slow it down, I try to fill the hours more meaningfully. ~Henry Rollins
May your November be meaningful.
In tattered gold
Tossing bits of amber
And jade, jewels of a year grown old:
~Zephyr Ware Tarver