November Beauty

 

 November is an acquired taste, an aesthetic of muted and subtle things--

A white-gray sky, brown leaves,  shattered pods of milkweeds spilling fluff and seeds. pools of yellow leaves of the ginkgo trees, each leaf slightly different, some folded like origami.

And some red berries on black branches, and after the rain, drops of water on bare branches and the few remaining leaves.  

And light through the plumes of blooming ornamental grasses, the tea  and leather colors of leaves, the gardens lovely in their decline.

Now we see the trees, the nests in the branches, the fractal branching revealing the shapes of the trees.

Already, there are some holiday lights and decorations, and the Festival of Lights on Michigan Avenue. Wreaths and evergreens adorning  apartment buildings.  Already festive colors.

It seems we cannot bear the unadorned for long. Yet there is beauty, bare as bones, wind scattering the milkweed seeds, dry leaves and buds on branches.