November has been weaving itself around me in a very non-November way - it has been much too warm. There haven't been any November mists or rainy afternoons or blustery grey days that make you think the right thing to do is to curl up inside a quilt with an interesting book. This is what I get for living here, in the California desert.
I'm impatient, waiting for Autumn. It's true, there are some neighborhood trees dressed in scarlet and gold; I've heard the crunch of fallen leaves underfoot; Standard Time has returned with it's early twilight; but still, none of it seems Autumn-like when the temperature is in the 80s!
However, on Friday I'm winging my way to Washington State for a visit with my daughter. I'm sure I'll find fog, mist, and rain there. There's bound to be Autumn magic in the trees and in the air, and I will be completely captivated by all of it. Finally, my spirit will feel the shift of the seasons.