Robert Bly is one of my many favorite poets.
Solitude Late at Night in the Woods
The body is like a November birch facing the full moon
And reaching into the cold heavens.
In these trees there is no ambition, no sodden body,
Nothing but bare trunks climbing like cold fire.
My last walk in the trees has come. At dawn
I must return to the trapped fields,
To the obedient earth.
The trees shall be reaching all the winter.
It is a joy to walk in the bare woods.
The moonlight is not broken by the heavy leaves.
The leaves are down, and toucing the soaked earth,
Giving off the odor that partridges love.
Why be in a hurry to rush through November? It is a time of transition,reflection,of quieting. We need this. So resist the itch to rush down in the storage and retrieve the things of December. Soon enough the season of Hurriedness will be here for most. So today, take a walk, take a deep breath and inhale the month of November...if your lucky you'll catch a whiff of thankfullness.