Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves are whirling fast
The Months, by Sara Coleridge (1802 - 1852)
November is the ninth month of the old Roman year, which began in March. Nove is nine in Italian. The Anglo-Saxon name for November was 'Blot-monath', blood month, probably alluding to the custom of slaughtering cattle in preparation for the Winter.
That November can be a wet and dreary month is clear from the mottoes about it.
'November take flail,
Let no ships sail.
'If there's ice in November that will bear a duck,
There'll be nothing after, but sludge and muck.
There are lots of lovely things about November though. The dark evenings give us a chance to stay together. The bright sunny days are invigorating and the wind blows away all the dust, and of course the Christmas lights start to appear. We can make Christmas cakes and puddings and fill the house with enticing delicious smells.
there are often spectacular sunsets in the late afternoon. The rosy glow lingering for awhile and making us aware of the wide expanse of sky .
Here is a verse by Robert Browning (1812-1889) that shows his love for nature in November.
These early November hours
That crimson the creeper's leaf-across
Like a splash of blood, intense, abrupt,
O'er a shield; else gold from rim to boss
And lay it for show on the fairy-cupped
Elf-needled mat of moss.
Enjoy the November sunsets
Graceful across the sky
Nature's paintbrush dipping
Tingeing low and high
Sweeping golds and blues
A thousand rosy hues
The trees show black and stark
Against the dusky glow
It will soon be dark
We must hurry home
But look there is the moon
Make a wish for me
I'll make one for you.
Not Robert Browning
|The new moon in the November sky|