We left windows open yesterday to let the late autumn warmth creep in. The french doors were ajar until midnight. It was a day out of season; a last grasp for something that has faded like an old woman wearing a short skirt and too much make-up. Just the same, no one was fooled. The parade of autumn is nearly over and the ticker tape of leaf fall swept away. Winter is just over the horizon.
Today is another sort of day. Bracketed by gray skies with fits of wind and rain, the lines are falling in familiar places. It is a berry cobbler and candlelight sort of day; just as it should be in mid November. Still, I left the bedroom window open a few inches because, in or out of season, I relish a curtain blowing day.
These bright blowy days are precious and should be savoured. November is the dreariest of months so any glimpse of sunshine is welcomed. This and your other curtain blowing post are beautifully written - you have a way with words.
ReplyDeleteThank you elaine. We have been having such a warm, dry fall I felt I needed to pin it to my memory board in some way.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful.
ReplyDeleteI love Andrew Wyeth's paintings. There was a view on the drive to Cambridge that I used to look out for. It could have come from his brush.
ReplyDelete