Sunday, November 17, 2013


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 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!


  1. it is nice sometimes to be cut off from the techno-world isn't it? Have a great time, relax and sip some wonderful French wine, nibble some cheese. . .

  2. Dear Heather, We will be here when you return. Have a wonderful time. Hope you're taking the puppers with you. ox, Gina

  3. Your low light photography is lovely.

  4. Such a beautifully written description of something I feel every year, now especially in France, which I have been hard-pressed to describe but never able to manage to out into words. Delightful. Have a lovely time away.

  5. I feel (as I often do) that this post was meant just for me, praying mantis and all. And you know it reminds me of the one that I began with in the Talking Art piece. I feel as you feel this time of year. Have a wonderful respite. xo

  6. I never cease to be delighted at how we feel such opposite things at the same time, living as we do on opposite sides of the planet. Here, the end of the year is the countdown to the glorious summer holidays - so it's more of a sense of excitement, of anticipation of dreams, where each slightly longer day heralds the promise of balmy summer evenings and adventures. I know I have said it before, but the seasons are such a powerful persuader of moods…

    Your words are getting more and more beautiful, if that is possible. I like to imagine they are the opening lines to a beautiful book…the kind one savours slowly, reading and re-reading each paragraph for the perfect beauty of the words.

    Enjoy your Luberon retreat…sounds heavenly…no data...

  7. Very beautifully written Heather. Enjoy your retreat. I need to retreat somewhere too. I have heard the screeching of imaginary brakes too often these past days.

  8. My favorite thing about this time of year IS the light and you show and tell about it beautifully. That picture of the square at dusk will be my new wallpaper. Have fun!


  9. Well, Heather, what a really, really lovely posting....thank you, as usual. Two responses:

    1. Yup, that's my bigass praying mantis; as I wrote, the only way I keep the terriers (they HATE it) from mauling the thing is to keep it posed on a 3 foot tall cactus with menacing thorns. That's worked thus far. To learn more about the creator (of the mantis; I'm not going all Baptist preacher on you), go to my portrait of Sarah (one of the most delightful, generously-spirited, and genuinely funny women I've ever known) at:

    2. As for Fall (my favorite, very busy season)?..... I hope you'll enjoy this song by another of my favorite women, Cheryl Wheeler. I know Judith Ross up there in Massachusetts will love (if she doesn't already do so) this song. Go to:

    When fall comes to New England
    The sun slants in so fine
    And the air's so clear
    You can almost hear
    the grapes grow on the vine

    The nights are sharp with starlight
    And the days are cool and clean
    And in the blue sky overhead
    The northern geese fly south instead
    And leaves are Irish Setter red
    When fall comes to New England

    When fall comes to New England
    And the wind blows off the sea
    Swallows fly in a perfect sky
    And the world was meant to be

    When the acorns line the walkways
    Then winter can't be far behind....
    From yellow leaves a blue jay calls
    Grandmothers Walk Out In Their Shawls
    And Chipmunks Run The Old Stone Walls
    When fall comes to New England

    The frost is on the pumpkin
    The squash is off the vine
    And winter warnings race across the sky
    The squirrels are on to something
    And they're working overtime
    The foxes blink and stare and so do I

    'Cause when fall comes to New England
    Oh I can't turn away
    From fading light on flying wings
    And late good-byes a robin sings
    And then another thousand things
    When fall comes to New England

    Thanks again,

    David Terry

    1. Oh yes, I know I've heard this before but thank you for making me pay more attention to the lyrics which capture so much so eloquently. The "irish setter red" especially hits home as my grandfather from whom I inherited my red hair also had an Irish Setter named Finian.

  10. Rest, relax, restore. I will be thinking of you, while I must rev up. (Now I know why it feels so wrong....) Your photographs today are even more beautiful than usual. Have fun with Remi and the pups!! Fondly, Leslie in Portland, Oregon

  11. I love how the light changes this time of year.
    And the lamps come on.

  12. You have become so poetic.............I was driving down the blvd. I always drive thinking today November makes me sad.It must be the light, the darkness that comes to soon in the eve and the end of a year rapidly approaching.Then here you are talking about NOVEMBER!!!You rest, do what you need to do........WE WILL ALL STILL BE HERE UPON YOUR RETURN!Especially, MISTER DAVID T.

  13. The shortening day, darkness that comes early, has its own beauty. Does sunset shorten too?
    I'm mistaken. I thought praying mantis comes out in summer. Praying mantis-mysterious twigs that move and are alive.

  14. This is your hemisphere's time for gathering in, and resting, and storing up mental and physical resources for the winter; enjoy the process and the snuggling in :)

  15. Your words formed a rime. Isn't it? November is a special month, sometimes it makes me sad sometimes contemplative. ...and it's good in any way. Enjoy your trip in Luberon. Curious to hear all the secrets from there and of course your fantastic pictures.

  16. November is always a transition month for me. I finally have to realize that Winter is approaching and the trees will soon be bare. Lamplight does fall earlier now, so it's best to grab the sunlight while we can. Thank you for your great photos and text, always inspiring. Also....really like the large mantis!

  17. Have a great time Heather! I think i left my heart in the Luberon!! Enjoy we will look forward to your picts when you are back! Cheers!

  18. Catching up Heather...loving your photos and remembering the time of day and year when there is a sudden hush as the sun goes down and the lights turn on. Lovely November.. xx


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