It’s dark before I even get home from work; illuminated headlights and storefronts streak by from behind train windows, recessing back into the darkness at 40 miles per hour. Commuters exit to semi-darkened platforms. Nightfall arrives at 5:00pm, and nothing about this time of year ranks on my Top Five Seasonal Experiences, including the random oak leaves on my backyard deck (I don’t even have an oak tree in my yard).
In increasing proportions, cold fronts arrive. Their crisp arctic bite, calls for us to spiritually concede. It’s yet another reminder that winter is about to arrive; yet another tightened grip on my emotional wherewithal.
I have come to regard November as the older, harder man’s October. I appreciate the early darkness and cooler temperatures. It puts my mind in a different place than October. It is a month for a quieter, slightly more subdued celebration of summer’s death as winter tightens its grip ~ Henry Rollins