Now it's November

I must admit November isn't one of my favourite months of the year but I have to say the last few days have been wonderful.  We've woken up to the garden white over with frost and smoky low lying mists in dips between the buildings in the distance. The low rays of the autumnal sun have filled the house with light.   The cats have been reluctant to leave the house but spurred by the bright sunshine have ventured outside stepping gingerly across the cold, hard grass.

At the weekend I finally gave in and  bought some Christmas cards from our nearest RSPB shop at Carsington Water.  Now I've dipped my toes into the still cool water of Christmas preparations I've started to think about buying just a few things in advance like postage stamps and the chestnut puree for our main meal, which is always Rose Elliott's recipe for Chestnut and Red Wine pate en croute.  I'm not going to think of anything else until 1st December;  then I will welcome all the festivities with open arms.

I discovered this lovely poem the other day so thought I would share it with you as autumn slips into winter

Leaves

How silently they tumble down
and come to rest upon the ground
to lay a carpet, rich and rare,
beneath the trees without a care.
Content to sleep, their work well done,
colours gleaming in the sun.

At other times, they wildly fly
Until they nearly reach the sky.
Twisting, turning through the air
till all the trees stand stark and bare.
Exhausted, drop to earth below
to wait, like children, for the snow.

Elsie N. Brady