November, wearing a scarlet scarf of maple leaves, arrived this week, awakened by shortening daylight and the wild winds of the north, winds that offer soothing shivers to calm summer’s overheated waters. As a welcome myth, she appeared upon our doorstep bearing gifts of bronzing leaves, sweetening collards and ripening persimmons.
But perhaps more appreciated is her restoration of that hour taken from us last spring, that same hour we loaned in exchange for an opportunity to get out of bed earlier in the mornings. With this simple return, despite the continued shortening of actual sunlight as of November’s arrival, we have been authorized to enjoy an extra hour of sleeping in, an hour of repose, that seems to give a savor to a world awakening to a refreshing brightness.
Despite rationalization, or any political decrees offered, time comes in its own dimensions. We can measure time in light years, by seasons, by moon phases or tides, by the lifespan of man, mountains, insects or movement of stars.
However, changing the hands of our clocks is simply playing with numbers. Man cannot as yet alter time by a single microsecond, no matter which way one chooses to measure it. So ring the bells and welcome another November with the flashing scarlet of redbirds gathering at the feeder and with its crisp days and nights tinged with the hint of oncoming chill.
November invites the tops of the long leaf pine to dance with the wind, causes waves to glint in the slanting sun and awakens the brilliance of magnolias from the lethargy of summer, while fat and fast speckled trout steal the shrimp from unwary anglers’ hooks. It brings a welcome glow in the fireplace, homefolks and family reunions, football, hot buttered popcorn and apple cider. It speaks in the bark of a fox, the song of wild geese winging overhead and an additional hour of sleep.