Mother Nature, like Father Time, will move at her own pace. I complained that the leaves had not turned to reds as well as yellows. They hadn’t. Then. It’s the end of November and look what pleasures she has wrought.


Mother Nature, like Father Time, will move at her own pace. I complained that the leaves had not turned to reds as well as yellows. They hadn’t. Then. It’s the end of November and look what pleasures she has wrought.

