The sky has turned to powder, sifting through my hands. The year is fading and I am left swathed in baby blues and little chick yellows...as if the sun was tired and the world was lit by lamplight.
Softness and sweetening, a whisper in my ear and a light caress on the back of my hand. I have felt this before. And written it too.
November. I realize it more by the lack of than the have to, the early to bed and not so eager to rise.
This is the time of quiet goodbyes...before the confetti blossom shakes bright, a catapult into the year ahead.
And so let me rest a bit, at home in the knowledge that I will always find my way back, guided by the flicker of life's lamp.
Have a lovely week ahead. We are going to the Luberon for some of the afore-mentioned rest so I may not be responding as much as usual to comments (have you noticed that when we go, we go to where we are unreachable? Hard to imagine such places still exist but they do) but know that I adore them nonetheless...
And oh, ok, here it is...David Terry's praying mantis!