Anyway that one slices November, it translates into a kaleidoscope of memories, dreams and colors.
It is as if the month were made not of days, but of the paint and pigment of falling leaves, of a whirlwind of summer now dancing to the drumbeat of autumn winds, a pause in the swirl of life to observe quieter time.
There are few works of art that can match the annual show of the swamp maple that led the season by awakening in full crimson in the early weeks of spring. From its rich summer green, it shifted to flaming scarlet and now dons its cloak of a golden tan in preparation for a long winter nap.
With the winding down of November, thoughts begin shifting to bronzed roast turkeys stuffed full of delight, families gathering at overladen tables, giving thanks for the good fortune to find themselves living in freedom and of treasured friends past and present.