Thanksgiving traditions abound, some fairly universal in the US, others more obscure. One of my favorite traditions is my Thanksgiving beach walk. Usually alone, savoring the quiet, the beauty, the ---yes, even the solitude. This lovely poem is from codlinsandcream2.blogspot.com 's sidebar. HERE
The dim sea glints chill. The white sun is shy,
And the skeleton weeds and the never-dry,
Rough, long grasses keep white with frost
At the hill-top by the finger-post;
The smoke of the traveller's-joy is puffed
Over hawthorn berry and hazel tuft.
I read the sign. Which way shall I go?
From: The Sign Post, by Edward Thomas.
Come walk with me.
Dune harvest.
I find the soft colors of seed heads and goldenrod so beautiful.
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Nature Journals, October through mid-November. Maybe more for my own record than of interest to readers. Almost a year now of entries into the tiny perpetual journal. I am looking forward to adding year two.
Cosmos from two years ago, the deck pots keep on giving! And actually are regrowing and quite green now.
Baker Creek Seeds, heirloom seeds.
Acorn. A redo~
The ugly locust tree. Blog friend Nancy says the honey locust trees are golden and beautiful in her yard. I am trying to see their charm.
Ornamental pear tree
The black cherry tree:
Scribble Journal/ Personal Journal: I absolutely couldn't squeeze November and December '23 into Book 2, and so began Book three at such an odd calendar point. The new book is beautiful, with illustrations by Marjolein Bastin. Found online from a used book seller. Pristine.
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Drying gourds as I await large wooden beads to space them on the drying twine. This year is not the best results, they are softening and getting furry! I wash off the mold and hang to continue the process.
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