14 November 2021
By Philip Kuepper
Cold and crisp come these morns.
By ten, the air is warm.
And, O!, the pure pearl
blue sky, and the river
inviting you row it,
fit athletes, each of you,
who stamp like horses in the cold,
waiting,
until the blood in you begins
to row your veins,
intimating that you row
the river.
(9 November 2021)
Hear The Boat Sing 
Thank you, Philip, for this poem about, and the great photo of autumn
rowing on your river. I wish our autumn were as beautiful but here it
tends more towards damp and muted.
Jane
The photograph of the Mystic River was taken yesterday, Saturday, 13 November. It’s upriver, shot from the west riverbank over to the east side. /Göran