I know Winter's coming, but I'm in denial. Every year, I want to welcome the Seasons and I'm genuinely glad that around here they change in significant ways, bringing new experiences, colours, temperatures and attending, necessary apparel.
I'm glad to see Autumn go in one sense. I usually hate November, but this year was mild and pleasant - and not as grey and cold and windy as in some years. And even now, Winter doesn't seem very eager to make his appearance; but I assume he will, shortly.
Anyway, the finch fluttering precariously on a blossomed branch reminds me of the cycles of the year and of my own life, and of each season's inevitable beginning, enduring and end.
Hunkering down now . . .