Early November finds a northern dweller perched like an indomitable winter bird (perhaps a nuthatch) between Samhain (or Halloween) and the frantic scurryings of Yuletide.Migratory birds are long gone for the most part, although the geese are still in residence and will be for some time yet. The landscape is a pallid sepia study crowned from here to there with skeletal whiskery trees and crunching field grasses. An excoriating wind roars across the highlands and whips through the hollows, scouring the earth, driving fallen leaves, pebbles and small branches before it. The rocks at the bottom of the gorge are lashed with torrents of water a few degrees above freezing - they're lavishly coated with frost and sporting the first shards of lacy ice.
It's raw and wild and very exhilerating stuff when one is in the mood and wearing both her winter woolies and her oilskins.
6 comments:
What a beautiful image. It looks like a painting. Reminds me of what will arrive in my area in time.
Catherine, your photos and your beautiful, thoughtful prose are like wonderful gifts. I never leave your blog without feeling somehow refreshed.
Thank you--your image is just lovely and your words even more so.
Dear Catherine !
This photo is so beautiful and the titel is perfect! Thanks for sharing.
Have a nice day
Greetings send you
Cheyenne
You carry from a windowless office out into a beautiful and breathing world, as ever. Thanks and blessings for this.
Breathtaking photo - I want to simply sit and watch and listen.
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