November

This used to be my least favorite month. As I get older, I find I am appreciating the differences in the months and seasons more--seeing, feeling, touching, tasting and hearing them.

For example, in November:

• the smell of fallen leaves, woodsmoke, and cooking
• the sight of deep browns and russet of leaves, bronze of chrysanthemums, the completeness of dark on no-moon nights
• the rough texture of split wood, smooth coldness of apples, warmth of wood fires and quilts
• the sound of owls calling, fires crackling, soup bubbling, leaves rustling, and wind howling
• the taste of cider, pumpkin pie, chili and hot tea

You can probably add to my list. What are your favorite November things?

I was browsing through a 1920's elementary school literature book and found this poem. Although some if the sentiments are a bit sweet for my taste, I thought it expressed well some of the sensory offerings of the month.

November
By Alice Cary (1820-1871)

The leaves are fading and falling;
The winds are rough and wild
The birds have ceased their calling—
But let me tell you, my child,

Though day by day, as it closes,
Doth darker and colder grow,
The roots of bright red roses
Will keep alive in the snow.

And when the winter is over,
The boughs will get new leaves,
The quail come back to the clover,
And the swallow back to the eaves.

The robin will wear on his bosom
A vest that is bright and new,
And he loveliest wayside blossom
Will shine with the sun and dew.

The leaves today are whirling;
The brooks are dry and dumb—
But let me tell you, my darling,
The spring will be sure to come

There must be cold, rough weather,
and winds and rain so wild;
Not all good things together
Come to us here, my child.

So when some dear joy loses
Its beauteous summer glow,
Think how the roots of the roses
Are kept alive in the snow.