" It was November -
the month of crimson sunsets,
parting birds,
deep, sad hymns of the sea,
passionate wind songs in the pines."
{L.M. Montgomery}
These dear, much-loved November days...
the world outside my window feels fretful,
uncertain, wavering between the
warmth of late autumn and chill of early winter.
I watch with patience for snow to frost the near mountain-tops,
a sign of winter's soon arrival.
On my morning rambles, I take it all in...
the bare branches laden with tiny buds,
the whispering chatter of the birds,
the crackle and deep tobacco smell of the leaves underfoot.
Inhale. Exhale.
My lungs filled with a deep pleasure of the woodsy air.
Cherishing the snuggling in here at home,
the slowing down, a quieter pace.
My bookcases brimming with new books
patiently waiting to be tucked into.
Tea brews, steam swirling... joy alighting from my mug.
Soul-settled contentedness.
These dear, much-loved November days....