Frosty

More and more lately, we are seeing mornings like this . . .

Each leaf and needle rimmed with frost . . .

Patterns forever repeating . . .

Everything dimmer, more subtle . . .

And that is how November is to me. Subtle. Serene.

The only vegetation left in our yard that is trying to show off is the big burning bush by the road.

But it's so humble the rest of the year . . . who can blame it?