Monday, 8 November 2010

A page from the book of autumn

Like discarded pages
from the book
of autumn, the leaves
come trembling down.

Today is the first truly Novemberish day:  wet and wild.
The leaves are surrendering, not just the odd individual flutter
but whole regiments of them, felled by the great gusts of wind.
All of that October gold transmogrified
into sodden piles of brown muck.
I drive gingerly through the forest
that leads to my daughter's school.
Tires slip; windshield wipers scrape.
I take out porridge, still warm, for the chickens
because I feel ridiculously guilty about the discomforts
of their outdoor living space.
There is a great temptation to just go back to bed.
Cheers for hissing radiators, thick duvets
and the cappuccino that my husband
(still in his thick bathrobe)
is making for me right now.

Open your arms
to the dying colors,
to the fragile

of November.
Deep in the heart
of buried acorns,
nothing is lost.

(italicized words belong to Linda Pastan,
from Queen of a Rainy Country;
recommended reading for November.)


Dragonfly said...

Beautiful words, thank you. Your photo is wonderful too, I love the sweep of the road.
It's wet and wild here today too so I've no plans to venture out.

Tracy Golightly-Garcia said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Tracy Golightly-Garcia said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Tracy Golightly-Garcia said...

Hello Bee

I enjoyed your post and the picture is lovely! Thank-You for sharing the information on the book--will have to check it out.

Have a great week!

Tracy :)

slommler said...

Such a beautiful way to express what fall is...golden and chilly and wet. That is it!! Ha!
I think I will come to your house for the coffee and duvet covers.

willow said...

Ah, it's Novemberish in my neck of the woods, as well. I'm relishing the woolliness.

Marion Williams-Bennett said...

Thank you for that wonderful poem!

It's Novemberish here, and my drive to work this morning was so much what you describe, blustery with all the muted leaves holding on for one last rain storm - though I think this will be it for them.

I WISH the end of my trip included the warmth of duvets and robes, alas, I savor it reading your words.

Just a Plane Ride Away said...

Oh Bee, if I must come back as a chicken, I hope it would be as YOUR chicken. Warm porridge, indeed!


Star said...

It's been like that in Bedfordshire too Bee. I did not go out today. I felt no inclination to do so, content as I was just to watch through the window. Tomorrow will probably be the same, I fear, but Wednesday? a brighter day in prospect.
Just think though of all the delicious reading we will get done!
Blessings, Star

Catalyst said...

Great photo, Bee, and wonderful words to accompany it.

rachel said...

It's all been said by other commenters. I love that line about the acorns....

Vile weather here - we all got drenched on our walk today, and only the labrador failed to notice.

Wind Spirit said...

Amazing words and photographs

kristina said...

I love the fact you give your chickens warm porridge on such wild and windy days.

K x

Jennifer said...

I've noticed the same feeling around here two weeks ago. Overnight, all the yellow and red that were in the trees were brown on the ground, and the skies were gray - so November.

I visited your new foodee blog, and I love it. Now I'm a follower.

Cottage Garden said...

The leaves of a cotoneaster in the garden went red overnight - its most definitely deepest Autumn now.

Beautiful words and photo Bee. Thanks for the recommendation to Linda Pastan's books - I just know I will love it...


Paul C said...

I like the juxtaposition of the poem with your own. Yours is rich with sensory appeal.

Lisa said...

You captured it beautifully. I am actually reveling in the chilly mornings, the gray skies, the warm and sunny afternoons we're experiencing right now.

Plantaliscious said...

Gorgeous post. Though I do hate it when the leaves go all soggy and you slip about rather than being able to crunch...

Sarah Laurence said...

I love that photo – the golds, greens and curving road, very English. I love that first stanza. This isn’t your favorite time of year, but cappuccinos in bed must make it sweeter. Nice man!

I ditched 4 cups of tea yesterday – I kept brewing them and forgetting to drink them. Maybe if I’d had my tea, I would have remembered.

Elizabeth said...

Gosh the Barn looks so lovely in fall colors.
It is definitely my favorite time of year.
Will write a proper letter when not jet-lagged.......
You bought Horlicks for Pamela --such a very charming idea. She is coming to Maroc!

Poshyarns said...

Heavenly photograph and wonderful post, conjures up these November days perfectly.

Gigi said...

I'm so glad you're enjoying the Pastan book, Bee. I had a feeling you would. I realized the other day that there was one more little thing I should have sent you in that package! I'll just have to send it off all by itself.

Hope you have a lovely weekend. It's very sunny here, so I'll be out snapping more photos of berries, praying that they don't signify anything at all except a bountiful crop for the birds! xo

Relyn said...

November used to be my least favorite month. It felt gray and chill to me. And then my daughter was a November baby. Now I see it for its rich blankets of color, the cozy comfort offered by sweaters and duvets. The riot of color that awakens my eye. All of it - beautiful, beautiful November.

Kristen In London said...

How beautiful. Thank you.