November is perhaps my least favourite month what with it being dark in the mornings and again by mid afternoon. The weather has been cold, wet and windy leaving gardens, and allotments, looking rather forlorn.
I came across this poem recently which paints a somewhat cheerier picture.
November Pictures by Iris Hesselden
The city in November time
Lies grey and dark and cold,
But in the woods and on the fells,
There’s russet, brown and gold.
Through city streets, the chill wind creeps,
But on our woodland walks
The wind goes sighing through the trees,
He whispers and he talks.
And higher on the climbing hills
He carries us along,
Then we are dancing with the clouds
And in our hearts a song.
The river running swift and sure,
The small streams racing by,
The heron* standing poised and still,
The wild birds flying high.
Through all the short, dark winter days,
This beauty we’ll remember,
The falling leaves, the hillside path,
The pictures of November.
Have a good weekend!
[* My thanks to Uphilldowndale for the superb heron photo. Her blog also shows plenty of other images that relate to this poem.]