I never gave much thought to the month of November. Living in New England it is not recognized for its beauty, especially on the heels of the brilliance of October. November is a wedge of time bridging us from the drama of Halloween to the joy of Christmas; cosmically necessary to meet the 12 month requirement of the lunar calendar. If it weren’t for the warm glow of Thanksgiving and the patriotic ceremony of Veteran’s Day we might dismiss the month entirely.
Circumstances this month have caused me to reconsider my view. We endured the tragic loss of our sweet puppy Ricky while the next day my Mother underwent heart surgery. In my grief about the dog and relief over my Mother I stood looking at the naked trees feeling equally exposed and vulnerable.
Life has a way of shimming bits of light into darkness. My younger son brought home a cloud project. He needed to take five or more photos of clouds, identify and label them and present them on a poster board. At first Mother Nature didn’t cooperate giving us glorious clear blue skies. But the following week we were presented with beautiful arrays of clouds both wispy and cottony.
November, the month I’d skipped over for years, unfurled its canvas. With the trees denuded of their colorful foliage, a new beauty was revealed. I observed the branching structure of trees and landscapes previously ensconced. I took the time to appreciate the November sunset and its uninhibited glory set off by the surrounding darkness. And I realized that November is a stunning month and a reminder that the pain of exposure can reveal hidden beauty.