I don't like November.
It's hard to believe that today is November 16th and I haven't complained about my least favorite month of the year. For one thing, the days are too short. I now ride my bike home from work in the dark. In spite of my neon yellow windbreaker, and my flashing bike lights, I am more at risk. Still, I ride.
For another thing, it can be raw and cold in November. Although I put it off as long as possible, my winter jacket has come out of its cleaning bag. And November is fickle. We had an absolutely balmy day yesterday, and they are talking about snow showers tomorrow.
Then there is the sky. Gray, gray, gray. It has rained on and off for the last five days, a typical New England November. Perhaps the worst thing about November, however, is that it is followed by at least four months of winter. And although, at my age, I try to be grateful for every day, I confess that by mid-February I am longing for the first crocus.
Yet November does have a redeeming feature called Thanksgiving that just happens to be my favorite day of the year.
So in the end, maybe November isn't all that bad.