November's sky is chill and drear, November's leaf is red and sear. - Sir Walter Scott

 My babies Pearleen & her son Florek:



The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night,

Ya-honk!  he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation:

The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listen closer,

I find its purpose and place up there toward the November sky."

-   Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1855




































































































































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