The end of November, just before Thanksgiving, is beautiful. The air is crisp and chilly. The sky blue and bright but silent as the loudly honking geese in their famous V-formations are long gone. The lawn is covered with Juncos, sparrows and chickadees as they sprint about grabbing seeds from the dried garden flowers. The trees are bare; their leaves all curled and folded on the ground. Their bright colors all but gone. The crunch of the leaves under my shoes is a joyous event; so familiar and welcome.
It is dusk at 4:15. Throughout the year Cardinals linger at the feeders and call. It is the same now except the Blue Jays jostle for the coveted position of last bird at the feeders.
Late fall is the very BEST season. (But then, I say that with every season)