Yesterday was November. Not on the calendar, but in the atmosphere. The leaves are mostly gone, thanks to a windy day last week. It was cloudy and grey and chilly. The sort of day meant to be spent cuddled into bed with a good book. Which is how we spent our evening, after a lovely lunch at Mom and Dad's and an afternoon of talking, discussing, and going through old wool blankets, which Mom is wanting rid of. Dad adores wool blankets, but these ones, some 40 years old, are misshapen or shrunk from an unfortunate encounter with hot water. Still, it pains him to see them go. He kept his favorite, and I took the rest and have decided to make a couple big size blankets out of them.
(We will see how that goes.)
These are pictures of a week and a half ago. When leaves were still wildly uninhibited in their color choices, as opposed to the more sedate and quiet colors they are choosing now.
A side note: We walk past a house with a few of those purple maple trees, which have always been a puzzle to me. Why would you want purple leaves instead of green? And in the fall, instead of yellows and oranges, and reds, you get....brown. That is it. They turn brown and fall. I am sorry for those people.
Downtown Northern New York
I love this place.
I just read an article stating that Northern New York is the worst place in the country to live. The author of the article seems quite intent on hating the North Country. Other articles by him include one about the local chain grocery store being the worst in the country, the fact that the north country will have the coldest winter ever, and that Northern New York is an economic drain on New York City. For not liking NNY, he sure is interested in it.
The top of the kids playground at school
School and trees
Lily likes to give Abilene options
Elsie and Scrooge McDuck
Elsie also believes in choosing colors uninhibitedly.
I was at a gas station in Malone the other day and I noticed this tub of flowers. Tori had just emailed from Argentina about the poverty there. Complete and utter poverty in cramped little huts. But some of those huts had a cleared space with a little garden. I loved that image. The idea of people trying to make beauty (or more likely, bounty) amidst unbearable things. And this bent tub of flowers was a little like that. Although now I am looking at it, the owners may have rationalized that if they put a tub of flowers there, maybe no one would notice the peeling paint or unweeded concrete and they could put off maintenance another year. Still, I would like to think they were trying to make an unbeautiful thing a little more beautiful. Cynicism isn't as cozy.
This year has had the most outrageous colors
Driving around Malone
Isn't that almost a little too much? It was amazing.
I was driving through the cemetery looking at trees and I saw this gravestone. Which seemed like it needed recognition. Mr and Mrs Hugaboom.
Maple leaf grave decoration. I am not sure you could ask for more beautiful grave landscaping than a carpet of Maple leaves each fall. And graveyards with maple trees are more comforting for the bereaved. All graveyards should be full of maples.
A very, very red tree that had shed most of it's leaves
Elsie playing with washers