Last night we moved the clocks back to Standard Time. As I write, it's nearing 5 pm and darkness begins to cloak the landscape. Trees toss their branches, littering streets and gardens with leaves in golden shades. Soon we'll close the curtains and withdraw into coziness.
Over the past day or two a Pineapple Express from the South Pacific blew through bringing heavy rain, wind, and warm temperatures. In my garden roses continue to bud and bloom, although the full flowers droop under the weight of rain. The pink dahlias produce enough flowers for me to clip a small bouquet each week. Yesterday I discovered a few raspberries, not as sweet as summer's fruit, but still "very tasty" according to a six-year-old who spent the night and enjoyed the berries with her breakfast.
This hydrangea blossom clearly misunderstood the memo about November. She looks a little uncertain and young alongside the mature and weathered blooms.
After a very wet night the sun streamed into the living room this morning. I like a tray on the coffee table for corralling things like coasters, pencils, and remotes. A tray is easy to pick up and move elsewhere if the table is needed for drawing, playing a game, or other important tasks.
This afternoon we celebrated three birthdays that occur within two weeks. Our son made the cake and I wish I'd taken a picture of a cut slice. He made a Russian Honey Cake, composed of 8 thin layers that have a taste similar to graham wafers and a whipped cream/sour cream filling and icing. It was delicious!
We had the doors and windows open for much of the afternoon and all went for a walk around 2:30. Nine of us climbed Christmas Hill from where the city spreads all around to the Sooke Hills in the west and to the ocean to the south and east.
Watching the grandchildren run and skip (one brought along her skipping rope), clamber on rocks and climb trees made me smile. Edna Jaques said,
Go out, go out I beg of you
and taste the beauty of the wild.
Behold the miracle of the earth
with all the wonder of a child.
The woods were polka-dotted still with leaves clinging to branches, like gold coins among brown twigs. Soon, however, the wind and rain will strip the branches bare and the stark architecture of nature will be revealed.
Linking with Mosaic Monday, where we have a new host, Angie of Letting Go of the Bay Leaf. Thank you to Maggie, who hosted #157 weeks of Mosaic Monday, and a thank you to Angie for taking up the challenge.