To all the world, it seemed like there was no dimmer time, but November to me was a gift—a pause—in life.
I imagine the summer sun feels the same to others, but I felt at ease as the morning breeze met my face, and the soul woke up in glee. Troubles froze in the cold, still air, as we all wrapped more wear around ourselves—a kind of farewell to vulnerability and thrashings of other sorts, a protection and shared understanding.
Though algid months lay ahead, it felt as though the worst had passed. Things were dying, but they were not dead. And while winter was tomorrow, it didn’t matter so much at all. November was now, and full of life and love, even in all its grey.
October had always felt dark and unkind, with howling winds and eerie frigidity.
But November. Ah, November was an enchanted place and time.
and the deepest attestation to being alive.
That hearts can pulse with valour, in seemingly fleeting days—this holds the promise of life again and again.