NOvember.....NO that's not a typo

 NOvember, not a cloud in the brilliant robins egg blue sky, but it sure is cold. 

 

NO vine ripened tomatoes, only those that struggle to turn green, sitting on the window ledges in the mud room.  The pumpkins turned Jack O Lanterns are now compost. 

Autumn's beautifully colored leaves, Gaia's reassurance the Spring would come again, in soggy tatters as the return to the ground.

The land shows it's bare bones in all of their glory, when the wildflowers and   the colored leaves no longer cover them.

The warmth of the first fire in the  fireplace.  

The garden turned in and ready for Spring, soon it will be time to order seed.

The fragrance of apples, picked from a tree in the woods.

Then there is hot cider, or hot chocolate if you prefer, to sip as you look out the window.

 The first snow.

 

 

                            NOvember

                                    Thomas Hood

                                 

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! This poem is in the public domain.     Thomas Hood (1799 - 1845) was a poet, publisher, editor, and humorist. The son of a bookseller, he was born in London and lived there for most of his life, with stints in Scotland and Belgium. Well known for his puns and comic verse, Thomas also composed poems that drew attention to the social evils of his day.

November by Thomas Hood