September is still my favorite month (re: beginning of fall, birthday, anniversary, “bouquets of newly sharpened pencils”), but as I get older, I find I appreciate November more and more. Sure, the riot of color that is October has passed, but as things get a little grayer, a little browner outside…the days get colder…and it’s pitch dark by 6 p.m….I find that things slow down just a bit. Maybe nature is catching its breath before it plunges into winter, but November is a special sort of gray in-between time. Plus, on the human side, the holiday decorations aren’t out yet (well, they’re not supposed to), and the only holiday we have to look forward to is centered around food, family, and football. Semesters are winding down at school, work is slowing down as the end of the year approaches. I feel like November is a time to catch your breath, while also learning to appreciate the beauty found in bare branches and dying flowers.
There’s comfort in the knowledge that life will return, in its time, and that, in our time, we will have the privilege of witnessing rebirth. But this season does not make me feel the need for comfort.