The cold wind speaks of lonely. Of a need to scurry home to family and friends and turn the lights on all around for fear the wind will follow me inside. I want warm fires, hot apple cider and a good bowl of soup. Instead I head for Knob Hill for a walk through the neighborhood and a trip to Paper Source. The colors are brighter here and there is the beginning of a feel for the holiday season. People are walking with a little more swagger and joy and kids are running from window to window trying to decide in this year of much reduced living, which toy they want from Santa this year. Christmas decorations are going up along the street and there are friendly greetings heard everywhere.
I passed this house along the way, offering a free poem to passerbys. A wonderful treat for those of us who love the presence or presents of words.
I passed this house along the way, offering a free poem to passerbys. A wonderful treat for those of us who love the presence or presents of words.
A window from a local designer features elegant undies for sale...and here, the grey blanket of clouds and beginnings of rain has not washed away the colors...
The miracle of fall leaves is that no two leaves are the same color. As if an unknown hand carefully painted each one before they fell to the ground.