Yesterday and last night, part of the Arctic front that’s been moving through the upper States arrived in Portland. It made for a restless night. People had set out their garbage cans and recycling bins next to the street for trash pick-up this morning. The wind was so strong, it picked up the occasional recycling bin and sent it crashing down the street like the noisiest ever tumbleweed. The wind shifted here and there, and from some angles it thrummed through the house with a sound like distant helicopter rotors. It brought with it a freeze, or at least a near-freeze. This morning has dawned impossibly bright. The ground crunched a little as I walked through the yard to the garage. The maple, oak and aspen trees in our yard shimmer with fall colors and the air feels freshly scrubbed. I have always been in love with November.
Ode to November (except not an actual ode)