. . . How strangely like a churchyard skull
The thing that's there amongst the leaves! . .

~ Padraic Colum, excerpt from “Hornets”

You can easily spot the papery, piñata like nests hanging high in the leafless trees in November. This one hangs by the wetlands of the Charles where the herons fish. We walked early under the dull sky and found a host of feathers in the meadow grass; a bird lost to its prey. I have wondered about the nests. Today, I looked them up. They have their role in the ecosystem, they’re built of belonging and a role to play. They hunt other insects, some pests. And they are pollinators too. I walked for over an hour, feeling fine today. Excited for the holiday. Sailed through a few hours of work. The youngest came home and we did errands and chatted happily. I brought our Thanksgiving peels and leftovers to the pigs at Unity Farm. I meant to walk, again, with my daughter, but napped instead, in the dusky time of late afternoon, and I felt the cozy feeling of holiday time and the excitement of our journey tomorrow. I was glad for the nap. But my daughter and the dogs got a fun visit with the beaver that I missed. Oh! and I almost forgot! How lucky I was, first thing this morning, to see from my landing on the Charles across the slim river to the other bank, not one, not two, but three deer slip into the ripples and swim across to my bank, and bounce away with their white tails flashing into the wetland woods. They must sleep in the bed of dried grass of the other bank. I love the ferns, in every season. The beaver and the deer, who undoubtedly will find their hungry way to my evergreen shrubs, and the hornets in their homes like “churchyard skulls.”