Okay, without further ado, let’s just get this over with.
The next three months, that is.
As the first day of November greets us with grey, drizzly fog and even greyer, dark skies, we know it is just an inkling of what is to come.
The next three months, a period which will become colder, darker, snowier, icier, is upon us.
The three-month interval which finds out who we are, what we are, and tests us as humans.
It is the season of light deprivation, of Vitamin D scarcity, of closing in, shutting down, and turning to survival mode.
For that is exactly what it is.
A season to get through.
The next three months.
Standard Time returns this weekend as Daylight Savings Time Ends. That means a brighter morning and darker evening.
And as the ever-shrinking number of daylight minutes hits its crescendo on December 21st, we are on a countdown mission.
A countdown to the shortest day of the year; the darkest day of the year.
When sunset happens in the late afternoon.
When travel becomes hinged on the weather.
When darkness edges out lightness by increasing increments.
Some liken it to death, this time of year.
A time when all good things must pass, when the living, as in the plants and trees and grass, must take a step back, cease to exist as they previously knew it, reevaluate their existence, and decide to cease altogether or just take a break and reemerge bigger, brighter and better than before.
Something to learn from.
Will we take a page from nature’s handbook and reemerge bigger, brighter and better than before?
Will we survive this momental setback, this forced rethinking, this introspection?
Not to mention the snow squalls, icy sidewalks, polar vortexes, and cold weather alerts.
The continuous shovelling of snow off the driveway, walkway and back deck.
The never-ending battle of wits between an icy Mother Nature, a polar planetary shift, the resting sun, and the ever-abundant darkness.
But this too shall pass, or so said someone famous.
November, December and January.
The three dark siblings.
The come-if-you-dare threesome.
Thank goodness for Christmas lights, for therein lies some comfort.
Some “hygge” as the Danish call it and are famous for.
They endure up to 17 hours of darkness in the heart of their winter, so they know a thing or two about embracing it and not just enduring it.
They have made a livelihood of celebrating it, of making the darkness a friend, or in my case, a frenemy.
Their coping skills have resulted in books being written, lifestyles being emulated, and a trend setting cozy decor theme that’s being adopted around the world.
And so, November, as you enshroud us with your foreboding and darkness, and impending gloom and doom of the winter to follow, I will think to the Danes.
I will continue to take my Vitamin D every day, perhaps in double doses, to ensure that I can counter anything you offer.
I will continue my yoga, to allow my chi to blossom and thrive and grow and balance my inner sanctity.
I will become a fair-weather walker, only getting some fresh air and exercise when the climate is safe to do so.
I will count my inner blessings of my house and home, life and livelihoods, and the people and pets therein.
I will strive to survive, to not let the terrible threesome win, to look forward to February, a nice short month with a bit of hope – and sometimes double-digit temperatures and an early snowmelt!
See you on the other side.
**BTW** The title, “Hello, November”, is meant to be read with the same tone of derision as Jerry Seinfeld always greeted his nemesis, Newman the mailman: Hello, Newman!