by Curt Kovener
We have begun the month of “no”: no flowers, no fruits, no vegetables, no warm sun…November.
Here are some others’ thoughts on the penultiment month of the year.
“Even if something is left undone, everyone must take time to sit still and watch the leaves turn.” ~Elizabeth Lawrence
“Dull November brings the blast, then the leaves are whirling fast.” ~Sara Coleridge
“November comes And November goes,
With the last red berries And the first white snows.
With night coming early, And dawn coming late,
And ice in the bucket And frost by the gate.
The fires burn And the kettles sing,
And earth sinks to rest Until next spring.”
~ Elizabeth Coatsworth
“I like spring, but it is too young. I like summer, but it is too proud. So I like best of all autumn, because its tone is mellower, its colours are richer, and it is tinged with a little sorrow. Its golden richness speaks not of the innocence of spring, nor the power of summer, but of the mellowness and kindly wisdom of approaching age. It knows the limitations of life and its content.” ~Lin Yutang
“Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color and a time of maturity; but it is also breadth, and depth,
and distance. What man can stand with autumn on a hilltop and fail to see the span of his world and the meaning of the rolling hills that reach to the far horizon?” ~ Hal Borland
“Heap high the farmer’s wintry hoard!
Heap high the golden corn!
No richer gift has Autumn poured
From out her lavish horn!”
~ John Greenleaf Whittier
“Autumn is marching on: even the scarecrows are wearing dead leaves.” ~ Otsuyu Nakagawa
“Splitting dry kindling on a damp November day are like wind-chimes tinkling.” ~Michael P. Garofalo
“The wind that makes music in November corn is in a hurry. The stalks hum, the loose husks whisk skyward in half-playing swirls, and the wind hurries on…
A tree tries to argue, bare limbs waving, but there is no detaining the wind.”
~ Aldo Leopold
“Two sounds of autumn are unmistakable, the hurrying rustle of crisp leaves blown along the street or road by a gusty wind, and the gabble of a flock of migrating geese.
Both are warnings of chill days ahead, fireside and topcoat weather.” ~ Hal Borland
