The month was layered…layers of blankets and quilts…sweaters and scarves and caps. Mornings were layered with fogs and mists that gave way in wisps to show sparkly carpets of frosted grass and leaf in rising sun over fields and woodland. And oakleaf hydrangeas wear frost in elegance on their now colorful leaves.

Trees are more defined in November, dark trunks and branches against evergreen and the late color of red maple and coppery blueberry and golden viburnum glow in the afternoon light, like layers of a masterful painting.

There are layers too of bird chatter as snowbirds and wrens scuffle around in mulch and dried leaves near the door while finches perch for fresh water and all kinds of birds cling to the feeders surveyed by chattering, fat, furry squirrels while flashes of cardinal and bluejay brighten the yard.

My thoughts are all layers too, stuff and plans, memories and dreamings… some shrouded in frost or cloud, some bathed in sunlight or moonlight. But always as I survey my small piece of world, I look to see through the layers, to really see, and to be grateful, giving thanks for all that I have been given in this life.