This morning when I came downstairs in the dark...
...there was a heap of coals still red-hot in the wood stove. Maggie had banked them last night. It made it very easy to get the fire started.
About 10 minutes after she left to take Seth to an early morning soccer practice, there was a call on my cell phone - Maggie again, "You gotta get outside and check out the light - the sun is just coming up and it is fantastic." I put on my warm things, and decided to go down to the new conservation area along the river on the north end of town.
The light she had said, it is glowing. That's how I found it. I followed some snow shoe prints left from the day before down to the river. In the flood plain these plants stood silent, coated with frost as the sun filtered through the trees from the south side of the river.
down in Moline, Illinois with Maggie's family this year. My nephew James took one of his late grandfather's old .22 caliber rifles out along the edge of the field and shot this rabbit.
What was most interesting was the group of his cousins who gathered to skin the animal and investigate from a more scientific perspective.
It was up to James to gut the carcass, I don't think he really enjoyed that part. Oh well, better to learn now than later. I'm sure he'll think twice before pulling the trigger so easily next time.
November just seems to bring out the strange melancholy in me. I was up north at the cabin with Maggie's brother Steve this weekend for some chores and the final shut-down. We had a great time together.
When evening rolled around we went down to the lake, that's when the light began to fade, and the chill ran up my back. I don't mind too much, in fact I kind of like it. The reflections on the water echoed our thoughts of winter's approach.
