A warm “fohn” wind blew yesterday morning. A cold and wet wind blew yesterday afternoon, and I – who didn’t have an umbrella – took the bus home.
Typical November weather. The wind comes in hard and sideways and dumps huge amounts of rain on you, also sideways. And it makes the darkening evening even darker.
I didn’t discover until I was an adult why I hated November as a child. I usually notice stuff, including stuff other people don’t notice, but the autumns of my childhood are a mystery to me. I can’t remember what they were like. Except for November.
As an adult, however, I have solved the mystery. I simply hadn’t had the sense to appreciate the brilliant colors of fall: The stunning golds and reds and yellows, that arrive slowly and leave so quickly. All I remembered was that one month where there was no color at all: November.
November was just gray. Gray skies. Gray ground. Gray leaves. Gray trees. Gray weather. Gray, gray, gray. No wonder it drove me nuts!
November is still gray but I can be more patient with it now. I have the sense now to pay attention to the changing of the leaves and enjoy every hue. I also know that by December we’ll be putting advent lights in our windows, creating little beacons of solace in all the gray. And then comes the solstice and Christmas!
Although January, too, can be gray like November, it nevertheless is the start of a new year, and of lengthening days, and it is filled with thoughts of the future. Even for some animals: I’ve seen magpies in January checking out potential twigs for their spring nest-building.
November is here. I’ll deal. Happily.