My November Guest
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.
Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She’s glad the birds are gone away,
She’s glad her simple worsted grady
Is silver now with clinging mist.
The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so ryly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.
Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.
by Robert Frost, 1915, from “A Boy’s Will”
I absolutely love this poem. Frost’s November guest is melancholia, and for those of us living in the far North, blue moods, gray blahs, cynicism, even depression — definitely a little something which returns each autumnal cycle. And though the time changed this weekend for us — two more weeks for you, U.S. — and has given us a last reprieve before the real dark closes in, it’s hard to get up in the dark, and hard to come home in dimness. It helps that right now it’s not raining, but nothing is proof against sorrow. Nothing cures the winter blues, except for the sun coming back. If we could get out of things like this on our own, there would never be Solstice celebrations, and Christmas would be properly celebrated in March or April. (What shepherd worth his crook watches his flocks by night in the snow? I ask you.) Instead, we find our own happiness this time of year in the north, making a meal of crumbs, and a sun from specks of stardust.
We count our blessings. We give thanks. We hold onto what brings us joy. We string together shiny bits to reflect what little light there is, and flash ourselves Morse Code messages across the darkness: This, too, shall pass…
What makes me happy today: I have found knee-high boots that I like! Shopping doesn’t normally gladden my soul — okay, four out of five times, if I have to actually shop, I do a lot of dragging myself around, whining, and shuddering from Too Many People syndrome, but I am well content to have found these (mail order, which is Cheater Shopping, but whatever) boots in not one color, but two. And thus ends my boot-shopping endeavors for at least six years.
Second happy-making thing, in this the time of our yearly sorrow: Leaves. Because of a massive cold snap in October, we have color like wow and oh my. I am obsessed with taking pictures of a tree outside my window that is doing nothing in particular. It’s not even one of the best ones, but when the sun shines on these cold mornings, it just glows.
(You should know that approximately twenty-five minutes after I took these pictures, it was overcast, and two hours later it was pouring. The weather here truly does change on a golfer’s backswing.)
The third good joy: Pumpkin. As previously whined on this blog, hard squashes are not New World foods, so the UK does not know from pumpkin, except in specialty shops where they sell it for a £ a pound, and my does the price just soar. However! Much like with Google, you can find nearly ANYTHING on Amazon! Amazon UK has unearthed some dusty cans of Libby’s from somewhere in a warehouse probably in South Africa (!) and is sending them out to me. And I am gladdened with the thought of pumpkin bread.
And fourthly, candy canes! – another not UK thing. I have not purchased any as no matter how many lights are up here, it is not yet that season, but I know now that I could. Amazon again. I never buy books there, but random imported food? Yes, yes.
The fourth joy of this season, and really, any season is, of course, books. Cybils reading is trucking along; I have nine books on order that I have finally been able to beg, borrow, and steal from other libraries in the city. Recently I read — in a book that I didn’t particularly enjoy — a rather funny statement. The character’s mother believed that “any book was a Good Book,” and thus any building that protected books was a sacred place.
Libraries as sacred. (And from that point of view, what a variety of strange gods libraries shelter.) A point to ponder.
Those are my joys, this particular moment; feeling my way through the season of darkness, I know my questing hands will find others.
What about you?
Huh??
Apparently I need to revisit that coffee joy and get a jolt that will help me express myself today. 😆
You’ve got me wanting to shop online for boots. I generally hate shopping, too. Yay for online help.
And, I love this Frost poem. I love Frost, and am on a Frost binge right now.
Joys to stave off depression:
Pumpkin bread is one, so I am so very, very glad that you will get to have some, too!
Too much Halloween candy.
Giving up the candy and feeling properly and righteously cleansed.
A really good cup of coffee.
The unexpectedness relish of a quiet walk with the dog in the early morning.
A really good glass of red wine (though “really good” to me basically just means the bottle has been opened. I have no idea what’s *actually* good. If it says cabernet somewhere, I’m in.)
Poetry.
A very high, teetering, to-be-read pile.
Enjoy the autumn colors — it’s been perfectly gorgeous here, too. This morning, as I walked the dog, leaves fell on us like a soft snow. Luscious.
I’m laughing outloud at your comments about shopping. I’m the same way, though I did also see some kickin’ boots the other day I wanted — but obviously hadn’t paid attention to boot PRICES in a long, long while.
The world’s thneeds bum me out. And what it comes right down to is that most of it is all thneed’y.
Enjoy your pumpkins and leaves. One of my joys: Hot cocoa.
My husband always mutters quite a lot about “the month of the drowned dog” (Ted Hughes) this time of year…
And truly today is probably very much like your weather–blecky (if you know what I mean) and damp. Sullen.
But at least we have books and fire, and, of course (cue the music) each other. Although it was really nice being home all day alone on Tuesday!
Ooh, thank you for the Frost (how appropriate a name for this poem).
The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
Perfectly describes Minnesota right now. Beautiful, but desolate.
And thanks for reminding me to think about my favorite moments of this past week or so:
1) a toasty mattress warmer on a cold night
2) a hot shower for aching muscles
3) while hiking, the patter of shaking aspen trees
4) sticky toffee pudding, which Randy made for my birthday
You know how happy I am that you have rockin’ new boots, but it bears repeating. Boots! You have boots. And I am so glad.
When we’re not pelted with rain, walking home from school with my daughter is splendid this time of year. Today will be wonderful. We stop under trees and admire the leaves that have gradations of green to yellow, green to red, and streaks of all three. Bede says that we don’t know why trees make red leaves– the pigment is not present throughout the growing season, but is manufactured in late summer.
These are my joys:
1. So far, lots of walking and a few other modifications seem to help my spirits.
2. Broken-in hiking boots.
3. Travis-picking.
I still have to get new boots. I finally got some new tights, so it’s a step in the right winter-weather direction.
Mostly, I like to cook and exercise and turn on a lot of lights to deal with winter. We’ve already taken a decided turn to the cloudy along with the dark.
Yeah for the boots! Still don’t know how you buy shoes without trying them on to see if they’re a good fit.
Candles. Scent of simmering soup. Bubble baths. Painting. Reading blogs from around the world. Those are my glimmers of joy today.