November seems to descend from the heavens, dropping a curtain of longer twilight. November drops the curtain on color and light here in New England. It’s dark by supper time, and still dark in the morning. The sun slants differently, with less warmth. We know the period of darkness lengthens. Many of us wish to have more quiet time, more sipping hot drinks while working, more glancing out the windows as the last leaves flutter.
Bernardston MA has their locally famous Scarecrows in the Park, and the last ones still stand across from Streeter’s General Store, celebrating the end of Autumn, and the beginning of an inner season.
And so, an Ode to November, the beginning of a season that brings longer nights, cold, the community gathering for meals, and time for introspection.
Tail end of autumn
the in-between time
bare maples branches
dry leaves scuttle
A young bear pushes his nose
into heaped up leaves
poking through for acorns
coyotes howl late afternoon
Once twilight falls
barred owls call right
up until bedtime
the eases into browns and greys
With scattered red berries
puckered purple grapes
winter hasn’t emerged yet
although she’s expected
Garden plots are cleared
in anticipation of Winter’s arrival
like the tide line between sand and sea
November separates seasons
Of life pushing out of seed and egg
before returning to ground
waits for those last geese to fly
holds her cards close to her chest
Listen to the water ripple against the shore
and honor Manannán Mac Lir
I have not beaten gold into form
but I place an offering in the water
While November marks for me a period of introspection, of slowing down, and spending more time alone, I realize for other people who don’t live so closely tied to the land and season, there are other perspectives, people who live in other climates where growing doesn’t stop, or the warm season begins. What happens in November for you, where you are, that you welcome?