I love the light in November, especially when it streams into my kitchen in the afternoon. When the sky is cloudless it is intense and bright at first and then it slowly slips across the cupboards, down the wall. At four o’clock it is nearly gone but there is still enough light in the room to avoid pulling the chain that turns on the bulbs from the ceiling lamp. The day has unfolded with enough time and patience to slow down a bit. To contemplate, for a moment, the onion skin in the fading sun. To admire the warm amber color on the wood of the cutting board, made rosy by the hints of sunset. It’s something so simple and clear, like the leafless branches of a November tree cutting sharp lines into the sky.

Save