november drawing

Welcome back. I guess to me too. Sorry to have been away so long.
The weather has been a dominant character around these parts. Between hurricane force winds and a day this week that was like a balmy summer day, perfect for some yard work and hanging the laundry, the snow has only just dusted us this morning. It promises to be a sunny weekend.

 With all my good intentions I haven't that new piece of work I've been meaning to show you.
Instead, this coloured pencil - Prismacolor- drawing that I've been layering up when I've had time.

As usual, the colour is a bit off. The pleasure in these works I share with you really is in the doing.

There is a great comfort in handling colour and making combination choices.

 

Muji in the morning.

 

 

The energy of Christmas is in the air. I wonder if any of you are in the Toronto area and can go see my sister at the One of a Kind show where she has a booth- C57- with her wonderful work .

 

 

Have a lovely weekend, our last days of November to savour.

the evening of what's snew

Couldn't resist an update as it snowed all day and is still.

Now that's different

We were forecast 1-3 centimeters; that's about an inch.

The back hedge, that we never had time to trim, has bowed obligingly for us.

 

To think that I had our laundry drying in the sunshine on our line yesterday

 

our pretty little makeshift Christmas tree.

 

Wally is just home from work, a little late with the slower traffic which is a good thing when driving conditions are poor.  Supper is just about ready. Lima beans in the crockpot are done and the red jasmine rice is cooking. I'll add kale and carrots and such with a tahini and lemon dressing.

 

A cozy weekend in store for us in northern climes.

A pleasant one to all.

 

 

What's snew? It's snow!

How ironic to think, only this morning, how our weather here in the Annapolis Valley is about a month behind what we used to get in Muskoka,

and then:

 

it snows!

 

Though not much at this juncture on Friday morning

 

it's enough to lift my heart.

 

One never knows how long the snow fall will last or if it will even stay on the ground

 as our temperature is hovering just above 0 degrees Centigrade.

 

But within 45 minutes we have this!

the hydrangeas and our garden beyond

I may have to get my skis out

Wally's already strung Christmas lights around our Japanese Maple tepee poles.

 

and another 45 minutes later our ash sentry is cloaked. How utterly beautiful.

 

I hope you can get as much pleasure out of snow as I do.

If not, I hope you are taking joy in something special to you at this moment,

all so rare and fleeting.

catching the last light

It's evening now, midweek. The day started with a gloomy fog, and when the fog left, it didn't take the gloomy with it. So gloomy it stayed all day.

But yesterday...

As usual we waited late in the day for our country drive. Wally had the day off.

And as usual, he stopped for me to commune with cows.

 

These gentle beasts were concerned for a mate of theirs who mooed from a barn across the road.

They were only mildly curious about me.

 

Their concern was palpable, and occasionally one would moo back.

 

Eventually this girl with the curled down horns came to join us.

 

She had her eye on some bit of stuff on the ground.

 

But this shy one who hid behind another wanted its mate to know they were there and cared.

 

As the dark began to fall, Wally headed back to town for us to walk around

the Bird Sanctuary pond. I spied this lovely milkweed that monarch butterflies love so well when they bloom in the summer.

 

The light was getting quite low and a damp cold was moving in.

 

Wally posed for me at the entrance bridge.

I brightened the photos but lost some saturation here. It was a glorious rosy pink sky.

We could see the community that lays along the shore of this pond, fed by a tributary of the Cornwallis River

The ducks floated safely in the middle

 

sending a tranquil ripple through the pink water

 

so sweet

We began our march around the pond, here at the northwest corner

 

when I had to stop again in the fading light

to capture these rose hips against the pond

as festive as holly

You can just see the bridge from whence we came at the top of the picture.

By now my camera is really struggling to catch the exposure of the fading light.

We were home again by 5:20pm, amazed that it was still quite early,

 but glad to leave the ducks in their cold, darkening pond. Brrr.

 

Grateful for creature comforts even if the days are already so short, or perhaps because they are.

the fog and flowers of November

Always so odd to wake up to:

when the mist moves in from the sea. It is strangely magical.

 

Wally built a tepee around our Japanese maple that we can see from the kitchen window,

and as we drive in from the road.  It will be our Christmas tree in time.

Our mighty ash, which is actually two trees grown together (can you see the seam up the middle?)

is the last to get it's leaves in the spring and the first to lose them in the fall. It does it's best to camouflage the power lines on the street.

 

Two days ago I wandered about the yard taking pictures of the flowers that have survived

into November, a novelty for me when, for most of my life in Ontario,

 the season so rarely went past the end of September. Many trees haven't even changed colour yet!

 

That was the day we were forecast sun,

but my laundry hung most of the day in the gloom save for 15 minutes of the promised light.

It was this huge hollyhock blossom that got me started taking pictures that day,

 probably the last we'll see til next July.

  

The garden next to Wally's composter made from shipping palettes is drying up beautifully.

You can see one last Echinacea blossom on the left. These cattails are the gorgeous purple spires of late summer that will be a wonderful accent if and when it snows.

(It will surely snow. I just get a little perplexed with these long autumns out here in the east.

Already there has been 30cm of snow in New Brunswick just last week.

 I know, I'm one of the few people who love it. )

Pink mallow are hardy, and grow like weeds, this one hiding under the brown hydrangeas.

 

How can anyone call this a weed??

The arugula bolted quite early on and there are a myriad of these tiny blossoms,

 even smaller than this.

 

Though they are tiny, I couldn't resist this close-up of the wonderful veins like butterfly wings.

 

As I pluck sorrel from the bed for this grapevine, hundreds more appear.

 

These raspberry leaves are too beautiful to pass by.

 

Out behind the back hedge this wild rose bush is festooned in tiny rose hips.

 

really only this small

Who knew an African daisy would be so hardy?

Another one blooming despite nighttime temperatures hovering around freezing

 

And a brave little bachelor button in among a few impatiens, another surprise 

 

At the beginning of October I plucked this Japanese lantern stem from an abandoned lot.

I'm hoping it will take root, or seed itself. They grow in clumps like our hydrangea,

 in the same place every year.

 

"So where's the new art?" you're asking me.

 Still brewing I must say. I will give you a hint though:

I doodle a lot when I'm on the phone.

 

Can you believe we're a week into November already!

And the weekend is upon us.

Do keep looking for the beauty