November Colors

who are you,little i

 

(five or six years old)

peering from some high

 

window;at the gold

 

of november sunset

 

(and feeling:that if day

has to become night

 

this is a beautiful way)

-ee cummings

 

I went out today to take pictures of the leaves changing colors and it made me think of ee cumming's poem, probably because of the way he describes the colors and the way that the days come to an end in November. I love to take pictures of scenery and critters. I'm fortunate to live near many excellent picture taking locations. We went to a park, the largest park in the city, and we fed the squirrels and took pictures of the trees in their different shades.

This is why I love my home town.

The wildlife is friendly enough to share a bag of munchies.

 

And the trees hang on to their leaves for as long as possible, even when they turn for the winter.

 

And the sky stays blue, once the fog burns away.

 

It's not a big fancy city, just a really big town, and I call it my home. I probably always will. And someday, I hope to own one of the houses over looking this park. But that's another day.