Tiny Bird, November Light

November has been a real treat so far--two beautiful sunny days in the 60s. I could totally get used to this kind of November.

Sunday morning we all went for a walk down to the river, C forging ahead with his scythe to clear the vegetation that had built up over a summer of disuse (too buggy!); boys in the middle thwacking vegetation with sticks; me bringing up the rear trying to focus on staying in the present moment, enjoying the colors and sounds and light (I didn't even bring my camera--just trying to enjoy the moment!). We had a small picnic by Owl Tree, visited the river, saw some poop (apple-eating coyote? bear?).

On our return, the boys found this poor little Golden Crowned Kinglet dead in front of the house. It had apparently flown into our bedroom window and fallen three stories to the rocks below. I got out my nature journal, for the first time in more than a month and did a little sketch of it (which reminded me to also write down that I had seen a Barred Owl sitting in the middle of our road Thursday night on the way home from knitting group).

E and Z joined me with pen and paper. Their drawing skills are just emerging and they get very frustrated at not being able to draw exactly what they see, but they forged ahead anyway.

Look at the amazing fluorescent orange of the crest feathers. This is when I get annoyed at the term "natural colors" in reference to bland tans and sage greens...any color you could cook up with chemicals in a laboratory has already been done much better by Nature herself.

After we were done drawing, I ignored C and M's suggestions of keeping either the feathers or feet, and E and Z's pleas to add it to the nature table, and laid it to rest on this polypore mushroom growing on a tree just in the woods next to our house. Something will find it there and feast upon it, continuing the cycle of life.

Later that day M and I went to go see Where the Wild Things Are with friends (you can never predict what the weather will be like when you plan something two weeks in advance...oh, and I would totally NOT recommend that movie...monsters with severe neuroses and depression and abusive/codependent behavior...I found the whole thing a bit disturbing, but M seemed to like it OK) and on the drive home the almost-full moon was rising ahead of us, with the sun setting behind. All of the red and yellow and gold and orange leaves have fallen from the trees, leaving the browns and bronzes. The most amazing golden light illuminated hillsides below the moon in a bright, coppery glow. I kept telling M, "look at the moon! Look at those trees!" and he would say, "Mm-hm, I saw them."