Thursday, November 03, 2011

It is time to take the dried leaves out of the pumpkin man and fold him away for another Halloween.  He did yeoman duty, greeting the little princesses (a plethora of them - or was it a bevy?) and the frog that accompanied one of them - the witches and the ghosts, a warrior from space and a bluetailed dragon.

As soon as the day warms up we will scrunch up the leaves and spread them on the newly planted flower bed in the back garden.  November is being very gentle with us, so far.  Well, yesterday he fell prey to temptation and sent a rather strong and chilly wind to remind us he is on his way down the hills and into the valley, but on the whole there is a little period in the middle of the day when it is a joy to be outside.

It is true that November is rather a dreary month, but there are two ways of enduring it.  Cyril Connolly, an English author and a bright positive fellow, says that 'fallen leaves lying on the grass in the November sun bring more happiness than the daffodils'

while T.S. Eliot bemoans 'since golden October declined into sombre November / And the apples were gathered and stored, and the land became brown sharp points of death in a waste of water and mud.........'  Eliot can be quite miserable.

I will go with Cyril this day.  The sun is just above the horizon and the clouds are shining silver  above it.

It looks like a perfect day to muck about!!!


The Weaver of Grass said...

Hildred, I love your positive attitude to November. I must say that so far it is being kind to us too and is giving us beautiful Autumn colours. You sound nicely settled into your new home before the winter.

Barb said...

Your pumpkin leaf man looks very debonaire! I love fallen leaves, but I'm not sure they can compare with the first daffodils. Glad your weather has been mild so far. It's been cold in my mountains. We bought new skis last evening - might as well be prepared!

Sallie (FullTime-Life) said...

We would all be better off if we could go with Cyril Connoly's interpretation. At least a couple of those of us who can't (and who don't want to be as miserable as Eliot) are heading for Florida! (I suppose if I could write like Eliot I might want to stay where it was darker and more dismal -- I think rainy days probably are more conducive to writing poetry!)