November

It is once again stormy outside. I watch Rain being driven horizontally by Wind; leaving long rivulets of Water on the windows.

And I know the long, dry weather we've had since Summer began to sing is over.

But November storms have their own curious attraction for me. They are the harbingers of a new season...a different rhythm.

The garden is sodden; Leaves that have yet to be raked and placed over the garden beds blanket the backyard. I have waited for all the Leaves to fall, for a long time, it seems. I want to place those Leaves over my garden beds; but stubbornly, even through gale force Winds, they cling to their branches, waiting for the perfect moment to join their companions clustered over the Earth.

My camera does not like wet, windy weather. The battery gives out very quickly. And so, the other morning, I took pictures through the dining room window. The water washing down the windows made the photos look old, as if I had pulled them from an old box filled with memories. They made me feel as if I lived in another place and time.

November can be like that. This year, there was a sudden change from warm, dry weather to the wet and windy days we are now experiencing. This difference in climate took a lot of my plants by surprise.

Roses are still blooming. The Passion Flower Vine, which had too many blossoms to count this year, is still putting out its unearthly bloom, not seeming to mind the very cold or very wet weather we've experienced. In different pockets of the garden, Pansies, Monkshood, and Lavender are still dancing in Wind's concert.

Against all odds, these flowers are still showing their colours. I feel for them...I want to bring them in to the warmth of the house. I have tried to do this before; I know that they will almost instantly curl up and turn brown...the change in temperature too much for them. I leave these stalwart blossoms outside, where they remind me of the season just passed. And where they can find their own rhythm in the scheme of things.

Last week, when we drove to Port Alberni, Trees still had full Fall foliage and Sun still sent his golden rays out of a clear, blue Sky. This week, the road through Cathedral Grove and beside Cameron Lake was covered in a sheet of ground up Leaves; Wind whipped Water from the Lake over the side of the road. Clouds were heavy and dark, banked up against the Mountain Ranges that stand guard over the Lake.

Wind had toppled one of the grand old Trees in the Grove. We saw the raw cuts from the saw on the once proud Tree, when we drove through. It had fallen across the road, hitting a car in the process. Occupants of the car are apparently injured, but alive.

I have always felt extremely vulnerable, travelling through the Grove on a very Windy day. The power of Wind can send branches from the Trees thudding against the roof and hood of my car, and leaves can obscure vision. Driving through the tunnel of trees at these times is a struggle in endurance...it seems never-ending, my nerves on edge at each turn in the road.

The November Wind proved his power once again this weekend, making my wary awareness of his force justified.

With a strength not to be denied, November's Wind roars out the warning...Winter will come. The cold weather will leave Earth brown, without sustenance enough...and I hear Wind shriek his cautionary tale...telling me to prepare for the cold ahead.

In November, I am not yet tired of hearing Wind shriek; or Rain beating upon the window panes; or Frost and Snow etching sparkling outlines as far as my eye can see. It is a time for laying in Beeswax candles; for bringing out warmer clothing from their summer hibernation. It is the time to light the fire in the evenings.

Winter has not depleted my strength as yet.

But ask me again, in January.