"My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be;
she loves the bare, the withered tree;
she walks the sodden pasture lane."
With the annual shortening of the daylight hours and inevitable hustle and bustle of the season, my late fall and winter respite from the rat race shifts from photography to writing, making daily shots a hit or miss affair for a while.
November 27, 2007: Eleanor, quite ready to start the jolly upcoming holiday festivities.
November 4, 2007: Hope pauses for a brief moment.