A scene such as the one that’s been playing out in our front yard is so beautiful it merits an excessively-flowery post title, hence the literary histrionics at hand. (Not that anyone could tell a difference; I’ve made bigger deals out of mouse poop, I’m sure.) Anyway, here is the late afternoon sun illuminating the Chinese dogwood and Japanese maple in front of our home. This photo was taken before Andy had a chance to give one final haircut of the season to the lawn, but I like its wayward appearance. It reminds me of a rocky ocean, much more befitting of this time of the year. The beauty of November too often goes unnoticed or unappreciated. I’m trying to do better service to the month and the notion.
