It’s time of year when my phone fills up with photos of ice. This time of year is, naturally, close on the heels of the time of year when my phone fills up with photos of leaves.
It may not shock you to know that in this transition from late fall into winter, I sometimes also take photos of leaves and ice together.
I engaged in an act of political resistance this week. I sent a letter to each of the 20 electors of Pennsylvannia to urge them to consider casting their vote for anyone who shows better respect for international diplomacy and the office of president than the president-elect. I don’t expect my letters to change any minds. There’s a good chance my letters won’t even be read, that they won’t arrive before the electoral college meets. That they will be buried in the bags of letters being sent. Even so, I wanted to add my plea to those of many thousands of others to voice that the upcoming administration does not have a mandate to carry out policy changes that put our world at risk.
As an aside, when I stopped by the post office to buy my stamps and mail my letters, I was amused by one of the signs in this quaint little scene at the back of the building.
“Do not climb or jump on or off the dock. Use stairs or ramp.”
It is rare that we are publicly invited to jump off stairs in public buildings. (But I did resist the temptation.)
The puddles on our driveway and paths can be treacherous when they freeze, but they can also provide a gallery of fascinating shapes and pattern. These are a few of the many photos I took today. (I took several photos in the morning, and was surprised that the ice hadn’t melted by afternoon.)
This summer we had an infestation of gypsy moth caterpillars in this part of New England. The little buggers were especially partial to oak leaves, and left the oak trees in some neighborhoods almost completely defoliated. Other trees were more mildly affected, whether by the gypsy moth caterpillars or other critters. Come fall, the leaves that fell from these trees displayed a range of damage, sometimes creating quite fascinating designs in the remaining bits of leaves.
The cookies in the photos are fully baked, but only about half of yesterday’s dough has been baked into cookies. Of those cookies that have been baked, some number were eaten before being decorated, and many more were eaten after being decorated. In all, the cookies were more than half-eaten. (Or at least more than half the cookies were fully eaten.)
This post is half-baked because I just spent far too longer organizing and deleting photos in order to do a new photo import to my laptop, because I’ve gone and filled up my hard drive yet again.
I haven’t managed to do much holiday baking hte last couple of years. This morning, though, I found myself at home without needing to rush out the door, and so I dug out my recipe notebook and made some cookie dough. Here is the butter and sugar from one batch, before they were creamed together, catching the light from the window. (I made the dough, following making some pancakes for breakfast. While I was mixing the dough, I mused about how the same few ingredients can result in such widely varying forms, depending on proportions and preparation method. I also mused that this seemed like a good metaphor for humanity. But it is late, so I will have to leave this metaphor half-baked. Or perhaps leave it to chill in the refrigerator overnight before baking, like the dough I prepared.)
As you may have noticed if you have seen me post lately, my eyes are often drawn to interesting leaves. On this morning’s walk, a curled leaf on the sidewalk caught my eye for looking like some sort of creature. And then once I stopped to photograph it, the puppy naturally had to check it out.
Here we are, one month past the US election. I’m still not over it. I don’t plan to get over it. What I am trying to figure out is how I can play a role in protecting the social progress this country has made, and to push back against the racism, bigotry, homophobia, xenophobia and all the other flavors of closed-minded, small-minded fear of the other that this president elect has shown and encouraged in others.
I am still working to find my voice. I am working to strengthen my resolve, and bracing myself for a long fight. I’ve felt like I’ve been treading water, just focusing on keeping my head above water enough to keep breathing. I plan to take action soon, but the truth of the matter is that I am not a strong swimmer. (This is true literally as well as figuratively. I think this metaphor comes to mind because being in deep water brings me a sense of dread and near panic. Much like the coming change administration.)
So I continue to post here daily, as part of my commitment to speak out. It may seem odd that posting photos of leaves and trees serve any function towards my goals of addressing issues of social justice, but they are functioning for me as a way to keep the communication lines open. (Or perhaps of keeping my toe in the water, if I want to stay with that metaphor. But if I am treading water, it’s more than my toe in the water.
Even thought the temperatures are dropping, and we’ve aleady had our sampling of snow, ice and frost, it is still technically the fall here in New England. And while the most dramatic fall colors are seen in the trees through the month of October, bits of bright color can still be found here and there well into November. Especially in the bushes and small plants in the undergrowth. Here are a few bits of color I came across in the last couple of weeks in November.
collecting tokens 