“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


accompanied by leaves

it's already too cold and there's no baseball and it gets dark too early.
it takes forever to stop sneezing in the mornings
and the heater is old and gets too hot or not at all.

i stumble into today and say scissors when i mean sunglasses,
except i really don't mean sunglasses,
i mean glasses to see with,
to peel potatoes and break blue eggs for breakfast with.

it is one of those mornings when i thought i had an onion but i didn't.

warm air slips out of the house,
escaping through cracks in the windows
and my cold toes take it personally.


tuesday looks gray and i can see reflections of the fairy lights in the windows and across the glass of photographs hanging on the wall in just the right places.  when i move around, the lights follow me in all the mirrors.  the temperature and leaves are falling in perfect rhythm with each other, and the cat is asleep atop boxes filled with art supplies, her new favorite once-again spot.  the tv is on with no sound. across the street, the ginkgo tree has gone that suddenly gold that tells me it's november at last.

another small morning.
no birdsong, no squirrels.
just moments of wind and leaves.
and suddenly warmer toes.



  1. I never know what to say here, because I get tongue tied by the beauty, but I don't like stopping in and not saying anything. Reading this is like looking at a painting - it soothes and stings a little (cold toes taking things personally, which is exactly what cold toes feel like, exactly) - there is so much to look at and absorb. I could sit here for a long while, rereading and looking at that photo (which looks kind of like a smudged xray, the fairy lights like little teeth or pearls, and then that little tiny tree). Perfect isn't a word I like or use much, but this post of yours, this is the kind of observation and writing that word is made for. Perfection. Thank you.

  2. Tongue-tied also, I can only fall back on "I love this."

  3. Jeannine - you aren't alone. And your comment could have been stripped right from the contents of my head.

    This is one of my favorite places to stop and rest in the whole wide world web.

  4. one of my favorites too. except i don't bother with most. only here and Mrs Mediocrity.
    there is always something to learn here. and it stays with one for a long time. if only one sentence.
    it is remembered..
    in fondest, tilda

  5. this is my favorite time of year and I know I'm weird but I like the silence that heralds in late fall, no birds or squirrels. I feel snuggly when it's dark early and my cold feet are warmed by hand knit socks!

  6. I can't stop looking at this image. It fills me up with the way life feels just now.

    Another small morning that really isn't small at all. Just as your words are never small.


  7. Oh gosh, be very, very, very careful when putting on a pair of scissors!

  8. Your blog is a beautiful place to breathe. Always...

  9. It's Thanksgiving Day, and our family eats an early dinner instead of lunch. Just now there is a lull between the hectic preparations and all the guests arriving for the meal. I wanted to take some of that time to visit my blogging friends. I needed to say thank you. Thank you for the inspiration you provide here in your place and for the comments you leave behind when you visit mine. Happy Thanksgiving, friend.

  10. Whenever I come here, your imagery just fills me up.

  11. Loving the quietness of your words...of your world, inner and outer.
    Just breathing it in.


come. sit under the emma tree & let's talk. i have cookies . . .