It was a lovely sunrise this morning. A long, gray cloud bank made a stripe just above the horizon, so the sun was able to sneak its first rays toward the treetops before becoming obscured again, briefly. It looks to be a nice clear day coming up.
November is here - two months of sunrise outings to go. Among the many things I have learned to appreciate through this morning ritual is bird-watching. One great thing about November is that I'm suddenly seeing birds again. Foliage does a great job of hiding them throughout the growing season.
I look forward to November every year. It's not just the advent of Thanksgiving, which I consider to be, perhaps, the best and most positive holiday celebration that our country shares. I love the drama of the weather - the growing chill in the air, the shifting skies from gray to clear, rain to sleet to snow. I am captivated by the myriad earthy colors of tree, stone, soil, shrub, and grasses that create exquisite landscapes that are thoroughly undervalued. I love the pre-winter nesting that goes on indoors and out, the battening down, the shoring up, the bags of leaves packed around the mud room sill, the loads of wood in the basement. This is a time of year to bundle up and walk on the frost-crunchy grass, see views through forests of trees with hard frozen branches that clack together in the breeze, feel the promise of spring buried beneath the earth's hard-packed dormancy. It is a time to build fires and listen to music, read good books, watch football and movies, put soup or stew in the crockpot to simmer all day. It is a time to sit inside a cozy house on a day of freezing rain and sleet, and count your blessings.
"To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven."
No photos today - the camera is at large after taking these photos last night: