Early November Storm
It is my feeling that this is the loneliest of seasons.
It does not have the sweet promise of spring,
the warmth of summer, the colors of fall,
or the crisp, clean friendliness of winter.
This cloudy, rainy, sunless in-between
when the naked trees cry out for their blanket of snow.
Farewell to Summer
written by Joy Cenicola Nov. 1970
Farewell green leaves, farewell warm sun.
Farewell fields of flowers where we used to run.
Farewell oh beautiful sky of blue,
Farewell things of summer, I sure will miss you.
Hello gray skies with clouds of rain.
I must put up with you again.
Cold autumn winds, blowing leaves
that fall from trees to dance under the eaves.
Hello first storm with snow so white
whirling about all through the night,
piling up in drifts so high.
Oh, dear things of summer, farewell, goodbye.
At bedtime, it was raining. A quiet misty drizzle was settling on everything.
The morning brought about a drop in temperature, a beautiful surprise.
Everything in sight was encased in a glimmering coating of ice.
Frozen in Time.
The following night told another tale. Howling winds, heavy wet snow,
power out, trees and wires down blocking roads, making it hard to go.
As we traveled up the road, a snow coated vista began to unfold,
an awesome winter wonderland, a vision to behold.
This magnificent panorama is what we see every time we travel down our road to home.
Our farm can barely be seen on the lower left peeping out between the pines.