Most of my adult life I have hated November, so much so that I would run away (in a responsible way). November drags on. The days are short. The nights are long. When I commuted to work, I would leave in the dark and return in the dark. Every day was a battle in November.
Yet I have some fine memories associated with November as a result. Standing on a chilly, sunny day across from the Cenotaph in Confederation Square in Ottawa, paying tribute to the passing veterans and cadets on November 11. Guy Fawkes‘ fireworks with my family and pal, Trish, in England. That same trip, we toured the War Rooms at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. We had tea with my godmother at the Savoy. She had come up by train to town, dressed in her best for the treat.
I spent a week in Ushuaia, Argentina – by accident – in November in 2009. Four-wheeling and tramping through bogs, visiting an estancia. The highlight was hosting a dinner for 2 polar pioneers, a BAFTA winning cinematographer and a pair of world-renowned artists. The view from the restaurant was astounding and the stories they shared…remarkable.
The days I spent in the Weddell Sea in November are on my top ten list. Emperor Penguins stopping to view the human visitors as if we were the animals in the zoo. I met some interesting people on that trip, with whom I remain in touch, with pleasure!
No longer commuting to work, on this First of November I arose with the sun. Made the day more tolerable. I donned my walking shoes and headed out to put my heart in gear. I passed aggressive red squirrels and harvesting gray squirrels. Leaves floated from the trees. I kicked a few on the sidewalk. The air was crisp. The sky overcast. A front is moving in.
It is time I let go of my hatred of November, and embrace the best it has offered. Do you see the white flag?



