A Poet's Journal: November 13th, 2013
November 13th, 2013
This morning a great flock of cranes came in from the ocean and passed inland to the hills; many seem to use this valley as a corridor when the winds are high though their passage lacks not a curious inspiration. Fog and rain over the last few days have given way to sun, exposing the sudden change to autumn colours; the golden birches to the south are amongst the first to be perceived and admired. One oak tree, which had taken on a beautiful pink colour last year, and held the sunlight so well, this year looks diseased, so that one would think it melancholic that the sun must shine.
Whatever the day, it is a singular occasion to remain indifferent to daily concerns, and gather within us an appreciation for what is unacknowledged. It is often that we find ourselves being elicited to speak a certain way, but rare when we should have the chance to speak for ourselves.