From the slender branches of a white birch a big gray conical hornets' nest moves back and forth in the breeze. On a bright, cloudless, late November day there's a peculiar quality of light. Hills across the valley seem close and distinct. The river winds like a gleaming silver thread between the brown meadows. The houses across the fields and in the village seem very near.
Bare trees stand against the sky like detailed etchings.
November is a revealing month - a month of disclosures before the snow comes to cover autumn's brown and tattered quilt.