It looks like we might have our first significant snow storm of the season tomorrow. Of course that prediction could easily change, but I rescheduled a long-distance appointment anyway. As always, over the last month or so the geese in flight have alerted us to the seasonal changes as they head south with intention.

The Northern Lights once again made an appearance, spectacles of awe, various in intensity, shared across the country. From where I sat on The Urban Porch there was not much happening – or I missed it. It seems whenever there is any sky show happening around here (meteor showers, borealis, etc.) inevitably we end up with cloud cover. On the left side of my photo there was a faint green/pink column of the aurora, but I think the best takeaway was the dazzling cluster of Pleiades – the Seven Sisters – sparkling in the open space above a wisp of cloud.

My Red Tree dropped its leaves in two major purges. For a while the entire back yard was a blanket of crimson and rose. Of course I’m a bit biased, but I think Little Rudi in his striped sweater could be the month of November feature in a dog calendar.

Frosty mornings and windy days have taken the glow and left a faded browning.

Despite the dying back of everything, there is still just one Marigold flower in the front yard that has remained standing against the encroaching winter.

The continued resilience of this little yellow bloom has left me smiling. This morning it has finally begun to wilt, yet is still hanging on – soon to be buried beneath the snow.

And despite freezing temperatures, a geranium left over from the summer continues to bloom on the porch next to the front door. I keep thinking I should bring it inside, but due to my history of planticide (see Planticide 11/30/2022 for the awful details) I probably won’t.

A few plants did manage to make the cut and return to the safety of the house to winter over. The Hibiscus, which for some inexplicable reason did not produce even one flower out on the porch this summer, suddenly rewarded with an unexpected bloom once it came inside.

The season of spectacular starling murmurations has begun, as they take to the sky in a mesmerizing, shifting mass of wonder.

As the chilly winds have been an invitation to more time spent indoors, I’ve done a little cooking, although not really propelled into the thick of it yet. This Spicy Peanut and Pumpkin soup was pretty good.

I tried a few other NYT recipes containing winter vegetables that were fairly successful, but you know how unprofessional food photos really don’t come out looking that great, and some can look pretty awful. Given that, just imagine their tasty beauty in your mind. Brown-Butter Orzo With Butternut Squash was one (pretty yummy), Curry Shrimp and Sweet Potato another.

The Dutch Baby of last week was Blackberry Pear. And then there was the Pear-Cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving, which looked just gorgeous in my mother’s blue and white Arabia bowl. Were she still here, she would have admired the palette, which was just the kind of vision that would have prompted her to reproduce it in oil, pastel or colored pencil. It’s that time of year – missing loved ones, seeing little pieces of them everywhere.

Speaking of Thanksgiving, with all the ever-evolving dietary preferences, this year played out in a similar manner, presenting some minor challenges.

On to more esoteric ramblings – the Medicine Card I pulled for the week was The Antelope. The Antelope provides a Do It Now, Get Moving, Take Action, Proceed With Purpose kind of message. Given that, I’ve been making Multiple Lists in an attempt to organize my head and propel myself into The Future with a focus on Things That Need To Be Done. All these key words with capital letters here are meant to impart a sense of Serious Intention (to myself, if not to you). Much like the migrating geese, the direction is Onward. We will see how that goes. It’s a start for this first day in December.

~*~