November

 

I was 17 and on a family Sunday afternoon drive. Remember those?

Daddy insisted on taking photographs of all his four daughters. I bet my three younger sisters have a copy somewhere of photos taken of them that afternoon.

I freeze when a camera is pointed at me and the french twist I had for Sunday morning church did nothing for me in a front view. I never thought I would share this picture of me online but this November the shot of the young woman has become a little dearer to me because I remember her more fondly than I used to.

Hal Borland says that "November is the aging year, a woman whose Springtime children have grown and gone their way..."

November is my favorite month of the year but Borland's words made me a little sad until I read on:

"...but whose hair is often spangled, whose gray eyes are often alight, and whose dress of grays and firelight-gay, a glittering night, a crisp blue day, a whispering wind and a handful of determined fence row asters."

2024 is aging but once was young and so was I.

I'll wait and see what the rest of November has for me and mine and give a heart full of thanks to be here for each day.

I wish you a blessed November.