The first photo was taken from my parent's front porch Thanksgiving morning. Unfortunately my camera did not adequately capture the pink glow happening in the sky, but some things can only be experienced and not explained, nor photographed. Weather-wise, this was the best part of the day, but that was that was fine by me, as I always think of Thanksgiving as in inward, indoorsy sort of holiday.
On Black Friday, I opted to keep far from the orgy of consumerism going in some places. Instead we visited the quiet town Onancock and Ker Place, home of the Eastern Shore Historical Society. Several artisans had set up shop in the old mansion, which I quickly breezed through, preferring instead to get closer to the 200-year-old sycamores out front. In winter this species always reminds of bleached whale bones.
My son is almost a man now. This fall has been the season that chickens have come home to roost, so to speak, and I have a whole new appreciation (and regret) for what I put my own parents through when I was his age. Like the trees, I think we will both survive.
Later in the afternoon, I had a nice walk with the dogs along the shores of Metompkin Bay, though it was quite cold and very windy. It gave me chance to tinker with my new phone.