111111

A MAGICAL DATE, a time of new beginning. It's what a friend has called the "sticks" season, when the leaves are (mostly) down, the plants are dying back (but not yet cut away) and the "bones" of the landscape are revealed.

A fast-moving storm pushed through with lots of wind and just a little rain -- enough to darken the ponds to a mirrored surface. The stream is flowing between the ponds and the lower pond shows the trees reaching down into the earth as well as up toward the sky. It's a time of reflection.

The change of air brought the temperature down from the mid-50s to 39, so it's a bit cool to sit out and contemplate the serene face that rests against a maple, just off the patio deck.

In the garden, aconitum napellus (monkshood, wolfsbane) is the last flower to bloom. It’s a time of pagan omens, with a haunting November full moon. The world moves widdershins, as the sun retreats. The afternoon daylight can no longer be saved, and darkness falls too soon. 

We'll plan to spend more time indoors, with warming fires, and pull out the recipes for soups and stews. November brings us down toward the winter solstice,  a time when the human spirit helps to bring back the sun.