since starting STILL blog i have really come to love november. for itself. not wishing it were september, not yet wanting to jump to april.  with the leaves down, the woods open up and reveal long sightlines through the trunks of trees. the golds, russets, and browns are lit flatly by the gray, covered skies. november is cashmere sweaters and the white eye rings of whitetail bucks. november is paris–gray, muted, and elegant.

a wreath of early november finds

grass lake trail, saint paul, minnesota