It's such an odd month. I know a lot of people don't like it - after all it can be cold, foggy and wet, darkness comes so early, and the garden doesn't look anything like as good as it did just a couple of months ago.
But I love it! It's the month when I get a lot of my Christmas thinking and preparing done quietly and in my own home. There's no sense of panic, just a joy in making things (or maybe even buying a few things!) chosen with care for people I love. It's the month when the first chutneys have matured enough to be really good. The first frosts mean that Brussels sprouts can be brought in from the garden. Winter soups can be made and enjoyed with home made bread. Sadly I no longer have a real fire but candles bring magic to my sitting room.
It's the month of glorious fireworks and lovely bonfires. There's the poignancy of Remembrance Sunday but even then there is the beauty of simple village remembrance. I know too that across the Atlantic there is Thanksgiving to celebrate.
And it's a whole new thirty days of hopes and possibilities.
(Just in case you haven't guessed my Sabbath was truly filled with joy.)