November 30: End of November

River not yet frozen.
A single beech leaf shivers
against an ice-blue sky.

November 29: Mozart on the radio

For my workout high

and this winter-blue sky,

Mozart sounds just right.

November 28: Long drive home after Thanksgiving dinner

We leave the family home.
Jupiter watches
our progress homeward.

November 27: In bed

I fall asleep to The Hobbit,

dream of owls,

wake to torrents of rain. 

November 26: Like living in a snow globe

Light snow falling this morning, enough that my brakes didn't quite catch at that first stop sign on my way to work. Fortunately, the powdered streets were quiet, a held breath.

One lesson of snow:
control is an illusion.
Breathe in that cold air.

November 25: Monday

Darkness falls early--

feels like

I just woke up.

November 24: Dim sum

My first but definitely not last visit to Empire, a new Chinese restaurant in Portland, while driving back from the snow and ice of northern Vermont this afternoon.

First snowstorm, fierce winds--
inside, we bite into
steaming pork dumplings.

November 21: Wake up

Four geese fly 

across the white face

of the morning moon.

November 20: Goddess of Love

Above the twilight horizon:
bright Venus
setting slowly.

November 19: First snowflakes

Milkweed pods
rattle in the wind.
First few snowflakes fall.

November 18: Frost Moon

Outshining the white lights

strung across the restaurant window:

November full moon.

November 17: Road trip

Dinner in Brunswick tonight at Henry and Marty's to celebrate a friend's birthday...

 

Taillights blurred by rain--

long drive home

after dinner out with friends.

Posted with Blogsy

November 16: Warmth of a sleeping cat.

Turn the heat up.

The cat has left my lap

to watch squirrels.

November 15: Heavy frost

Freezing in flannel,
so why am I surprised
to see this heavy frost?

November 14: It's so dark so early now

"Marketplace" on the radio
as I drive home from the gym.
Starless sky anticlimactic.

November 13: Carolina Wren visits our feeder

According to my notes, a Carolina Wren last visited our bird feeder in 2006. I was especially surprised to see one on this cold morning, as they're a southern species that's moved into the northern climes of Maine only recently. Even though I was running late this morning, I had to stop and admire this uncommon bird-visitor on the other side of the kitchen window.

Washing breakfast dishes,
I pause to watch
a wren at the feeder.

Photo courtesy of Dan Pancamo / Wikimedia Commons

November 12: Blue / moon

Waxing moon
shines on our neighbor's
blue metal roof.

November 11: Bird's tail

Sunlight shining through
a lady's exquisite fan--
bird flying in, tail spread.

November 10: Sleeping bird

Feeding the cat at dawn,

I wake the finch

in the window feeder.

Posted with Blogsy

November 9: Lying awake, listening to the dark

Here in town
dog's barking replaces
soft calls of owls.

November 8: In the air

Snow spits on Mount Battie.
Here, milkweed pods
explode in the wind.

November 7: Dark so early

Lights of a barge

on the black bay.

Last pages of a good thriller.

November 6: Sandhill Cranes

Mom calls from Florida to tell
how a crane ate Cheerios
from her hand.

November 5: We vote at the firehouse in my hometown

Big Dipper's handle curves
above hulking fire trucks,
all those cast ballots.

November 4: Driving to work

Clear morning, long drive--
rehearsing what to say
in my head.

November 3: Urban birding

Along the railroad tracks--
squatters' sodden campsites,
white-throated sparrows.

November 2: Day of the Dead

Over the highway
seven soaring vultures--
what's below them unseen.

November 1: After the rain stopped

Opened the window
to wake myself up--
songs of goldfinches.