Tag Archives: November
“This November there seems to be nothing to say.” ~ Anne Sexton, Anne Sexton: A Self-Portrait in Letters
Crackling wood fire, bowl of hot porridge and a good cup of coffee – what more could anyone want on a cold covid morning near the end of November.
Camping spot beside the sea, tents sprout under apple tree. Someone tucks the kids to bed, flocks of geese V overhead. Trails through woodlands to explore, canoe or sail or fish some more, watch the pigs philosophize, lambs graze and … Continue reading
Callicarpa berries, growing in front of the seawall down the beach from my daughter’s. Surprising and Brilliant spot of colour along the beach.
Hardy Fuchsia blooming in front of a beach house in the sand and grass beside the Salish Sea in Beautiful BC
Trees sway, leaves fall, branches become menacing. It is not the power of the wind I fear but the result of that power, not knowing what will happen but knowing what could. Potential disaster all around, I sit transfixed at … Continue reading
We’re never ready for you firewood is not all gathered yet flower buds still wait to open the garden is not ready for it’s long sleep. Neither am I. Too much to do before the whiteness covers all and I … Continue reading
Not much to talk about on a rainy November morning but the mushrooms keep gathering to gossip about all the goings on in the woods.