October is winding down. The winds of November are knocking at the door, tearing the remaining displays of autumn foliage from their attachment to the trees, carpeting the ground in the fading colours of red, gold and orange while the stripped trees stand valiantly in the dropping temperatures that herald another season approaching.
Fields have been mowed down, hay and straw baled and set aside to feed and keep livestock warm through the winter. In the distant hills of Picadilly, the remaining evergreen trees take on more prominence.
Most flowers – both cultivated and wild – have surrendered to the changing season but there are a few exceptions brightening the forest floor with the last vestiges of colour.
There are still some berries left on the bushes, but even they are beginning to shrivel and die.
November always brings a sense of melancholy to my door. The time change will happen making mornings darker for longer and evening encroach on afternoons until well into the next year. Temperatures keep dropping, there’s more rain and snow threatens to arrive – too soon to be pretty.
And yet the remaining leaves shine brightly on a sunny day as if to ward off the impending cold and darkness.
Meanwhile, across the road, our neighbour’s HUGE tree has turned from green to gold virtually overnight and will retains most of its leaves – for now.
Capturing Cherished Memories 