“It’s mornings like this;
The stingy sun trying to hold back
Even the warmth of its reflection
Flashing coldly in the lake.
When November leaves drop in sudden gusts,
Like a red and yellow flock of birds
Swooping at once to ground.
Or even nights:
When winds reach wet hands
To take you spinning with random paper
Down back street gutters, under straining bridges
To clogged rivers.
It’s this:
The time of year, along with spring,
When poets must take care
Not to sing the same old songs
Stolen from tribal memory.”
Thomas R. Drinkard
In my opinion – humble or otherwise – November is quite the grimmest quantum of the year… far worse than Eliot’s ‘cruelest month’. There are entire days on which the light struggles helplessly to elevate itself beyond a Stygian post-apocalyptic twilight, and the dismal rain lashes the last few leaves from the traumatised trees to besmirch the sodden earth like eviscerated corpses smeared across the battlefield of the dying year.
The shortest day is yet a month away – and our subsequent celebration of ‘Sol Invictus’ has scarce reached the planning stage. Like the dormant green shoots themselves all thoughts of spring are still lodged securely underground – safe from the winter frosts. They will not expose their tender heads to the chill air for many months yet.
The Michaelmas term is always the longest – and the toughest – of the school year. The aim is to crack the preponderance of the curriculum before the solstice break – to form a platform for the anticipated achievements of the new year. The cause is noble, but the casualties are heavy – in terms of exhaustion, langour and ennui.
There comes a point at which one is just counting the days – and at such times, indeed, ‘poets must take care’…
-
I always think that Thomas Hood’s “November” sums it up succinctly!!
No sun – no moon!
No morn – no noon –
No dawn – no dusk – no proper time of day.
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member –
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds! –
November!x
-
Absolutely! I very nearly put the Hood in my post instead – and it is most apposite. I thought the Drinkard was a little more unusual, however, which is why I went for it.
Either way – November is to be survived rather than anything else!
Andy x
-
“In my opinion – humble or otherwise – November is quite the grimmest quantum of the year… far worse than Eliot’s ‘cruelest month’. There are entire days on which the light struggles helplessly to elevate itself beyond a Stygian post-apocalyptic twilight”……BUT IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!!! So even though it may be damp and chill in the big world, in my world there is a warm glow engendered by the love and kindness of friends, and the torrents of rain are only to clear the residual champagne bubbles from one’s head. Big world is gently snuggling in under a duvet of leaves to slumber until Spring; the daylight is lowered to help it sleep – sshhh.
Never mind, petal – soon be Christmas! -
Sorry – didn’t mean to ‘diss’ your month – and delighted to hear that your birthday celebrations have been spiffing!
However, the day that I took the photo at the top of this post through the car windscreen as I sat in a traffic queue at 8:00 in the morning – that’s as light as it got the whole day!! Bah!!!
I wouldn’t mind snuggling under the duvet until spring though….
-
The picture through the windscreen is beautiful – possibly differently beautiful but I love it. But then I do like a bit of weather.
-
Thank you. I was rather pleased with it. But it was near the end of a 90 minute plus journey through morning traffic, and that had taken the edge off rather… Glad to hear that you like this time of year!
-
I’m a November child too and have fond memories of Autumn arriving and the day’s getting shorter meant looking forward to my Birthday and soon Christmas would come.
My Mum would make Lentil broth with potato and slow-cooked ham (something I’ve done myself for a number of years now) and there would be a quiet hiss of the gas fires in each room.
Being (ahem) slightly older now, I no longer have those anticipations at this time of the year. Instead I simply notice the change of season, dig out my cold / wet weather clothing, tip my hat to Nature and say “Do what you must”.
It helps if there’s a pub with a roaring log fire within walking distance.
-
Wow – I shall have to defer gracefully to the massed Novemberists! I will hunker down in front of the living room fire, cradle a decent single malt in my hand and wait for the storm to blow itself out…
Many thanks for all comments, recollections and observation. I like that….
-
Comments are now closed.
Today’s image
8 comments