November memorys

A few days ago my son brought me a poem carefully copied down for me many years ago.

Written on the sort of tablet paper used in those days, it was crumbling, but still legible. I read it over and over, "Yes!!!!! this is truly how feel about November."  With a half hidden grin on his face he said "I know that is why i wrote it down in the first place."

“November comes
And November goes,
With the last red berries
And the first white snows.

With night coming early,
And dawn coming late,
And ice in the bucket
And frost by the gate.

The fires burn
And the kettles sing,
And earth sinks to rest
Until next spring.”

― Elizabeth Coatsworth

 

i

 On this fine day we chose to leave the chores and home behind, and go for a long. long ride through the woods. for the earliest signs of winter are fast approaching. the sun was warm but the air temp was 48F.  The beautifully colored leaves are either falling or turning brown.  A  gentle blue sky, with a few wispy clouds. And we  were out to  for  a drive, there were a few errands and stops made fo.r our winter "might need that shelf", but mostly it was just to enjoy the day