This series is based on My Year by Roald Dahl, which I read this summer. In this lovely yet little-known book, Dahl devotes a chapter to each month of the year. As he observes the seasons changing, he brings up fun facts about animals and trees, and also childhood memories.
To be original, I decided to start my year in October. Here, finally, is my November post.
November is a prolonged shiver.
As the days get shorter, the temperatures begin to dwindle. When I leave for classes, the sun is still below the horizon. The streetlights cast a foggy glow in the early-morning darkness. I shiver, stomping and rubbing my ears to keep warm.
Not only is the weather colder; it is also wetter. November rain is not the kind of downpour that can be kept at bay with an umbrella. Instead, it’s a pernicious, hazy sort of drizzle, that just hangs in the air, waiting for you.
In my opinion, one of November’s only redeeming qualities, is that it hails the clementine season. For just as omnipresent as this gloomy drizzle is the tangy smell of clementines. In November, people eating clementines can be spotted every few minutes.
However, despite cold, dark, and damp, November can also be a shiver of anticipation. For what? Why, for Christmas! Now all stores have put out their Christmas decorations, and strings of lights festoon the streets. Downtown, the month-long Christmas market is setting up. It wiggles through the cobbled streets, a paradise of warm wine, chocolate truffles, sausage, ornaments and mangers. On the marketplace, The Christmas tree thrones in the middle, taller than the tallest spire.
As November draws to a close, you feel justified in listening to Christmas music, and dreaming happy thoughts.