Saturday, November 9, 2013


Back in Western New York, a spanking new snowplough, looking hopeful. "Your tax dollars at work", as hubby is wont to say...

Early morning frost crunching on the fallen leaves

 Sugaring the dry hydrangea flowers

The day turns balmy, the sky ice-blue, the sun still warm on our backs.

 The buzz of a small plane overhead, geese gathering on the lake, urgently honking their travel plans

 As always, in early November, the triumph of hope over experience. We hope against hope it'll last forever. And then......

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