It most certainly is November, tout d'un coup. The Christmas decorations are up, the light is giving its last, most magnificent hurrah before sliding into slumber. At the end of this long week, this long year, I am frankly too tired to be verbose. I hope that these photos, taken on a walk last week in Arles, will make you happy all on their own, without much in the way of commentary.
However, one thing really worth mentioning is the respect that I have for my Mom. Well, always but most certainly today. For she is taking off on a three-week journey through Nepal and India to retrace where Buddha lived. I am so proud of her (and all of us) that decide to keep taking the risks that are right in front of our noses and are all the scarier for it.
It is not an obvious or easy choice for my Mom to have made but one born out of a certain or uncertain necessity. Similarly, I love to look at Ben, using his sniffer to guide him as he goes. That is the best of life, when we unfold our stubborn cardboard wings to dare, if not to fly, then at least to stand expanded.