For the second day running, it has been cool and damp at home, the morning light smudged somehow. As the bus climbs the hill to my little library at the top of the hill, it has got mistier and mistier. I can see it hanging over the fields, and wrapped around everything. When the light dims as the afternoon nears 3, the street lights start to flicker on, and illuminate a haze that could be misty rain or just mist. It has a surreal other-worldly quality to it that is really beautiful. It makes me think of wrapping the autumn in cotton wool, putting it away safely ready for next year, making way for winter.
Just the weather for candlelight, hot ribena, knitting, reading, dreaming.
Happy November, everyone!