November makes for perfect Sundays. Sleeping in late, having a delicious Irish Breakfast and then watching costume dramas the whole day. I have a whole set of them, a wonderful gift from the Irishman on his latest visit.
I feel no guilt whatsoever about not setting a foot outside into the dreary Scandinavian autumn. Outside it is dark, wet and uninviting.
Below the continuous update on my Birch tree. It has lost most of it's former elegance and is now standing half bare. I guess it is only a couple of weeks away from the culmination of this installation of my progressive photography.