There is a certain bleakness about November when everything is exposed. The landscape is grey and dark clouds move fast across the sky. If there is a personality to this month, I see a fugitive in desperation, needing to survive. The words, "Hiding your nakedness in short dark days," came to me while in the hospital waiting for surgery. It was November 1977. I was alone and feared the surgery. The rest of the words came a little later on Thanksgiving. |
Another side of November is revealed when friends and family gather in warmth to share food, drink and stories. It is a time to hunker down and brace for what is coming.
A Norman Rockwell scene of a farm house at dusk, windows aglow with the last rays of light on the horizon was what I saw in my "mind's eye" for this poem. I never could get the right shot. Something else was needed. In the Great Lake's Region, November is well respected. There are many sunken ships as a result of her fury. The raw power and beauty of the elements is expressed in this photo taken on Little Traverse Bay in 2012. The poem and photo express different aspects of the same month.