The First of November

We turned back our clocks on Saturday night, I don't know if I was ready for that, but it happened, as all things do. Tonight as we headed home in darkness, the air hung with shrouds of mist, my teeth chattering as we waited for the bus, I knew that Fall was slowly slipping in to Winter. It will fight, there will be still be days of warmth to come, but the nights are slowly turning chilly. The light has changed and the air is crisp.

"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

(Image Andrew Wyeth)