Seasons of Mist . . .

© Teresa Newham 2011

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
      Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
   With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run . . .

                                                              -  John Keats

We've had a mild autumn;  scarlet geraniums are still blooming merrily in my porch at the end of November, and even the fading leaves have lingered longer than they might have.  If it wasn't for the evenings drawing in at tea-time you wouldn't know that December will soon be upon us.  I love the rhythm of the seasons, so the recent misty mornings, with just a touch of winter chill, have been a delight to me, as well as a sign that autumn is slowly giving way to winter.

This month's Photos on the Run celebrates this change: dramatic shots of bare branches outlined against the sky, berries in the garden, the trees of Harpenden Common shrouded in mist.  This time of year, with its shortening days, has a sense of anticipation and mystery.  Christmas is coming . . .