Early November.

The nor'easter's wind hurls the rain (and possibly sleet) against the windows at night. Combined with the continual low roar of the winds from further away, sleep is difficult. In the morning we find that the maple leaves are finally down.

An exciting time, a time for closing in.

What color is the water today?

Our house overlooks a bay in Maine. This morning I asked "What color is the water today" and answered myself: "Slate gray." She added "With an undertone of cornflower blue crayon... and putty." 


This really struck me, as it came from a person who makes fun of the descriptions of wines. But a very discerning person. 

The water is indeed a different color each day. And each day is different from the last. Gives you something to look forward to and to appreciate. 

Sea gull

After working on my music I walked down to the cove near our house. The song I had been working on was still in my head. I was singing it to myself over and over. A sea gull sat nearby on a large rock. He looked at me (or so I imagined) and squawked once.

My song, his squawk. What's the difference?

Nature sings.