November 11. Remembrance Day here in Canada. Our church service this morning honoured those who gave their lives in service to their country.
After lunch, it seemed like a good idea to go for a walk. The sun shone weakly and intermittently and my chair by the fire was very attractive. I left it reluctantly. However, once outdoors, the crisp air and a brisk 10 km walk got my endorphins working. For the first half hour I wished for gloves as the wind was chilly coming off the water of Elk/Beaver Lake, but I did warm up.
Dull leaves litter the ground. A few still fall, lazily drifting back and forth, before being caught by ground hugging bushes and suspended.
Snow berries (Symphoricarpos Albus) are the brightest plants in the wood these days.
Leaves of various shades float on the dark water among the rushes.
The other day I read a funny article about How NOT to Hygge. The author begins "It's been two years of listening to people not from Scandinavia tell us what Hygge is - and what it is not."
Now I discover that there are more Scandinavian words that will, no doubt, be embraced by those who...don't really understand them...including myself.
That said, today has felt very hygge-ish (my own new word), what with embracing the outdoors and getting cozy in front of a fire.
I feel quite virtuous after that long walk and am settling down to some stitching and television viewing. Tomorrow is a statutory holiday in lieu of Remembrance Day, so we can sleep in and have another day at home. I do love Sunday evenings when Monday is a holiday.
Surely the scent of freshly baked bread contributes to hygge, too. I prepared the dough yesterday (all sourdough, no yeast) and let the loaves slowly rise in the fridge overnight. Around noon I pulled them out and they rose some more in the oven with the pilot light on. That loaf on the right has now had one crust sliced off, while warm, and
Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Angie of Letting Go of the Bay Leaf.