Oh, November

Three years and four months in London, and sometimes I still can't believe that we managed to move here, that we live here, that our everyday lives are lived out in this old city. November is my favorite month and has been in every city I've lived in except for San Francisco. November didn't feel special in San Francisco the way it does where autumn is a real thing. Here, November means leaves still changing and falling, and the sun setting ridiculously early, and grey days that are somehow comforting.

The photo above was taken at 10:30am on a Saturday. It looks a bit like evening, but it was morning, and it was just about perfect. I was wearing a coat and gloves and a thick scarf, and I felt comfortable and at peace. November is beautiful to me.

I wonder sometimes how much my love of November has to do with my date of birth - I was born at the end of November, destined to share my birthday with Thanksgiving every time it landed on a Thursday, for as long as I lived in the USA. But that was more a curse than a blessing, and if I'm speaking honestly, (and I intend to, this time at least), I would say not a blessing at all. I think that I love November despite the ubiquitousness of turkey and pumpkin desserts and small disappointments that have somehow come my way more birthdays than not. November is the soothing balm to that one day that often gets a bit lost in the midst of all the other special days.

So give me all the long walks and hot cups of coffee in my gloved hands. Bring me the early darkness and the soup on the stove and the long mornings reading in the soft autumn light that filters through our front windows. Let me breathe deep the crisp air. November will be gone all too soon.