14 November (feeding the bear)

feeding the bear inside me early dark

13 November 2025 (feels like snow)

feels like snow . . .

one goldfinch shoos another

off the feeder

12 November 2025 (fresh snow)

fresh snow

the aurora borealis

in friends’ photos

And this haiku, from my friend Monica Wood:

my friend promised

no more snow

and yet more snow

11 November 2025 (a raft of ducks)

a raft of ducks

in the middle of the lake . . .

first snow flurries

10 November 2025 (November rain)

November rain again and again

9 November 2025 (first frost)

first frost

a crow jostles

the birdbath ice

8 November 2025 (last oak leaves)

last oak leaves, clinging . . .

a finch’s querulous calls

to his mate

7 November 2025 (burnished fields)

burnished fields before the snow buntings

6 November 2025 (grey day)

grey day

a crow noses around

in the leaf pile

5 November 2025 (cold rain)

cold rain the harbor swallows our words

4 November 2025 (frost moon)

frost moon

rising over the bay

this fear of aging