day 317 of 365

We've had a week of wild wind.  The trees have been dancing against the sky.

day 316 of 365

Words are flowing out
like endless rain into a paper cup,
They slither while they pass
they slip away across the universe.

day 315 of 365

November forecast:  Wind. Rain. Bare trees. Raw gray days. Cold dark nights. Hot tea. Steaming soup. Good books. Warm blankets. 

day 314 of 365

The last of the yellow tomatoes, blown over by the blustery November wind.

day 313 of 365

Felt + scissors + needle + thread + beads + sequins = ornaments.

day 312 of 365

This is a real street in Harwich, just a few miles away from this street.

day 311 of 365

Here's another entry in my roof series.  This cupola reminded me of something out of a children's book or nursery rhyme -- maybe part of the "little crooked house" or the "house the Jack built."  It makes a nice perch for this seagull, who can see out to Lewis Bay from this lofty vantage point.

day 310 of 365

I'm not sure if this crow is eating or praying.  Or maybe doing some crow-yoga.  Downward crow pose?

day 309 of 365

These are the last of the fall flowers in the front yard.  They look like pink daisies but I think they're actually chrysanthemums.  We got our first hard frost last night, so they'll be dying back soon, too.

I'm musing on night over on Mortal Muses today.  Won't you join us?

day 308 of 365

These men were working atop the new water tower in Centerville.  Even though I was very far away and shooting with a telephoto lens, one of them seemed to pose for me.  Click on the photo to view it larger.