As a kid who was born in September, and one who loved school, the day after Labour Day always felt to me like the first day of a brand new year. I didn’t care what the calendar said. It didn’t make sense to me that New Year’s Day was in the middle of winter, and during a break from school.
I woke this morning to fog, my whole world felted and wrapped in soft cotton. I like a year that starts out hushed. In an hour or so the sun will break through, and the afternoon will be hot and busy, so I savoured my quiet, slow minutes this morning. I was mostly alone.
No sign of the bears who’ve been making ursine highways through the oats.
Unless you count this old, rotten stump that used to harbour ants before it got shredded and mashed.
A few lazy bees hanging out in the bee balm hid themselves from the camera’s prying lens.
This girl is glad it’s New Year’s and not Thanksgiving.
What does this new year hold for you?