I often hear from friends that they hate the month of November. The crisp Autumn air has started to chill. The colorful leaves have fallen to the ground. My friends dislike the monochromatic palette of November, but I am the opposite. I have always felt that November is a passionate month. The clouds are aswirl and the layers of tones in the monochromatic palette are the perfect backdrop to the trees dancing in the wind. There’s a question of rain or snow that hangs in the balance of the fluctuating cooler temperatures that give the element of surprise. Life is beginning to tuck in for the winter and replenish for spring. Plants quiet, animals snuggle, and I can walk in the wildness of the wind and feel free.
I am not alone in loving November. I share the company of famous poets that love the month too. Emily Dickinson says:
“The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.”
– Emily Dickinson
and
“November comes
And November goes,
With the last red berries
And the first white snows.
With night coming early,
And dawn coming late,
And ice in the bucket
And frost by the gate.
The fires burn
And the kettles sing,
And earth sinks to rest
Until next spring.”
– Elizabeth Coatsworth
A collection of November sayings and poems can be found HERE.
