November
Show’s over, folks. And didn’t October do
A bang-up job? Crisp breezes, full-throated cries
Of migrating geese, low-floating coral moon.
Nothing left but fool’s gold in the trees.
Did I love it enough, the full-throttle foliage,
While it lasted? Was I dazzled? The bees
Have up and quit their last-ditch flights of forage
And gone to shiver in their winter clusters.
Field mice hit the barns, big squirrels gorge
On busted chestnuts. A sky like hardened plaster
Hovers. The pasty river, its next of kin,
Coughs up reed grass fat as feather dusters.
Even the swarms of kids have given in
To winter’s big excuse, boxed-in allure:
TVs ricochet light behind pulled curtains.
The days throw up a closed sign around four.
The hapless customer who’d wanted something
Arrives to find lights out, a bolted door.
-Maggie Dietz
From The Shepherd’s Calendar – John Clare
The landscape sleeps in mist from morn till noon;
And, if the sun looks through, ’tis with a face
Beamless and pale and round, as if the moon,
When done the journey of her nightly race,
Had found him sleeping, and supplied his place.
For days the shepherds in the fields may be,
Nor mark a patch of sky – blindfold they trace,
The plains, that seem without a bush or tree,
Whistling aloud by guess, to flocks they cannot see.
No!
No sun—no moon!
No morn—no noon—
No dawn—
No sky—no earthly view—
No distance looking blue—
No road—no street—no “t’other side the way”—
No end to any Row—
No indications where the Crescents go—
No top to any steeple—
No recognitions of familiar people—
No courtesies for showing ’em—
No knowing ’em!
No traveling at all—no locomotion,
No inkling of the way—no notion—
“No go”—by land or ocean—
No mail—no post—
No news from any foreign coast—
No park—no ring—no afternoon gentility—
No company—no nobility—
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!
-Thomas Hood
Alan Reynolds (1926–2014) 1955-56
November for Beginners
It’s been so warm here in New Jersey this week it seems like summer will never be done. But one big storm and the leaves will be done.
Love those falling leaves! What a display? Did you make that gif?
I did. I made the foundation image and then added photos from others. very simple actually. But, yes – the colors are great. Still some color on the trees here in NYC.
Just. Thank you.
You are very welcome!
I must say I am always pleased to find a post from you, though I never know where it will take me. The variety is delicious. Here I am especially delighted by the Rita Dove one. Thanks for the collection.
Thanks for that very lovely comment Elizabeth. Yes – I am always the fox and not the hedgehog. I enjoy your posts for the same reason!
Great contrasts here! Just like every month or season we all have our loves or hates! Thanks, Josie for putting this little compilation together AND with pictures too! My favourites images are Carrie Ackroyd and Herge and although it is so NOvember it has to be the Thomas Hood.
Ashley´s last blog post ..End of Autumn
That Thomas Hood poem was something that was trotted out every year in primary school. Don’t know why as they were not big on introducing us to poetry.
You are right, of course. Every season has its pleasures and without the contrast between them, life would be very dull indeed. And a cat in the lap is always welcome!
Everyone seems to hate November. I love it. For one thing, it is my birthday month. And the trees are still beautiful where I live, and it’s pleasantly chilly to walk outside. And fires in the fireplace, and hot chocolate, and a new pair of gloves. Sitting on the sofa with the cat in my lap. A rest from yard work but plenty of time to think over garden plans to be made for next year. Knitting. Sewing. November!