November

Yesterday afternoon was most magical. As the sun tipped toward the west, a pink glow washed over the hay meadow, the hills, the barn and the autumn trees on the ridge. I wish I could describe it. One of my favorite paintings in the Metropolitan Museum of Art captures the essence of that glow. It is a small painting. I can see it in my mind's eye, but can't remember the title or artist. I knew that I had received a gift from God, being outside, right at the moment the glow fell over our little valley.
The sky was an enchanting shade of blue, a blue only seen in early November, on a magical afternoon, streaked with salmon brushstrokes.

Nothing really spectacular happened yesterday. Normal Monday. That moment outside satisfied my soul. I felt refreshed.

I noticed today it really looks like November outside. A breeze knocked off a few more leaves from the trees. The ridge is now orange and russet and gray. The sky has been gray all day. At some point I went for a stroll through the garden, trying to find the secret egg hiding place of our rogue chickens. A playful gust scattered golden willow leaves. I had to walk underneath the tree and pretend I was in a giant globe with golden willow leaves instead of snow! Ok, silly, I know, but fun.

It was a brilliant drive back from the polling place at a local elementary school. I was glad to go vote. I thanked God for a ballot with both a black man and a woman listed. At some point the votes will be counted, the controversies over, a candidate will make ready to take on huge responsibilities. And winter will come. Then spring. Summer will follow and before you know it, a gray sky will contrast with golden leaves and hopefully we can say we have paid attention the the things that really matter.