November 16, 208
And now there are leaves to rake and snow to shovel. Or we could just wait for the inevitable thaw. Warmer days are predicted ahead soon.
November 15, 2018
Leaves turning to brown, swept by the wind. Time to think about raking. Tonight we go to concert at a local museum, aware that a dusting of snow is predicted. The music is wonderful, but when we leave we discover that the city has been blanketed with about 5 inches of snow. Ah, fickle New England snow predictions. We drive a friend to her bus stop and she waits in the car until her bus arrives. 20 minutes early? Nope, 40 minutes late, as she finds out on board. We head home gingerly, sussing out the flattest route, surrounded by cars intent on heading up hills as usual, wheels spinning, sliding backwards and sideways. Finally we arrive home safely. It’s far too early for winter!
week 527 ~ in the middle of the stream
in the middle of the stream
of holidays cascading
sink or swim we’re losing steam
in the middle of the stream
wondering if we dare dream
hopes as fears masquerading
in the middle of the stream
of holidays cascading
November 14, 2018
We play music again today, and I hear my new Bach transcription for the first time. Always bumpy at the start of working on a new piece, I have learned to hear the difference between when my job is done and theirs is beginning, and when I need to revise and reset. Luckily this piece belongs to the former and it’s a treat to hear in my head how it will sound when the notes are in hand.
November 13, 2018
And suddenly brown is the dominant color on the ground, and the branches of trees, transformation complete, looking quite bare.
November 12, 2018
Rain in torrents and buckets– we are awash, squishing through leaf piles, watching as the wipers stop and the world blurs.
