November

It’s my favorite month of all. There is just something beautiful about it, it’s like the world is on the edge of something, sliding from fall into winter. The leaves are falling and it’s the first time you can really see the trees for what they are. Night comes early and it’s finally cold out. You can smell smoke in the air, and it feels like it’s about to snow. People are walking, wearing their coats, trying to hide from the cold, but it’s growing inescapable.

I love it. This is the season when the corn fields are harvested, leaving thousands of rows of broken stalks and deer scavenge for the dropped ears. The geese are flying over in formation and you can hear them if you go out at night and just take a while to listen. Everything feels just a little bit forlorn, and the world seems kind of lonely, but only on the outside. There is something else… something pulsing beneath that. There is a quiet, a readiness, an expectancy. There is the call of migration, the need to move, the desire for something new.

Mornings come with frost, and you can see your breath in the air. The air is dry, making the stars crystal clear at night. Something is coming, you can feel it in the wind, you can feel it inside of you, but it’s elusive, never quite taking shape. It’s like a fish slipping through your fingers, always sliding out of your grasp. Maybe and Indian summer is coming, maybe it will snow next week, you can never tell. November is the birth of a new season, or maybe it’s the death of the old. Things are heading south, dropping their leaves, burrowing deep beneath the cold. People are getting ready to go home for thanksgiving, starting to think about Christmas, but it’s too soon, they keep reminding themselves. It’s too soon to think about Christmas.

It’s right here, between Fall and Winter that both seasons seem beautiful. The last yellow leaves stand out, beautiful against a world growing brown. The newly naked branches are emerging, reaching upwards, starkly contrasted against the cold blue sky. It is now that the cold from outside is exciting, promising of things to come, and the heat from the woodstove is soothing. Warm days are relished as the last hints of the passing season, and cold days are hoped for, as a sign of skiing and snow days.

November is the world in transition.