#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

“Than these November skies
Is no sky lovelier. The clouds are deep;
Into their grey the subtle spies
Of colour creep,
Changing that high austerity to delight,
Till ev'n the leaden interfolds are bright. . .”

Excerpt from John Freeman, “November Skies”

This morning I paid attention to my daughter more than the landscape of this Sunday walk. Lost in talk we walked through the woods, noticing some greens and berries we will gather soon to bring indoors. With my daughters, we spontaneously planned a tea with my nieces and sister-in-law, and they agreed to come to our outdoor fire with masks and chairs set wide apart. I brewed three pots, brought my fine china teacups. Hot tea and warm conversation as it started to rain lightly. Once again, Frank’s umbrellas came in handy. In other years, we would be having Thanksgiving Day together. We had some laughs, too. My sister-in-law said she would like to give the angel at the brook a home with her. Wonderful! I said, she’s yours, if Frank agrees. I said I’d be happy to wade into the brook and get her next time my sister-in-law comes. But, when I proposed the idea to Frank, of making the angel a gift to my sister-in-law, little did I know: “Great. But you could have just given her the one that’s stored under the deck.” It seems that there is more than one angel that we must reckon with. And, I think that this angel of the brook is going to stay put for now. And that my sister-in-law will have to settle for the spare one he’s keeping under the deck.