Here’s what November looks like so far, out of doors…and, well, in. The deer are wandering from house to house, sipping from birdbaths and eating windfall apples. Last weekend, we had our first snowfall, beautiful and fleeting. This morning, I stepped outside to find a strangely warm breeze blowing through the woods. Big dogs were racing around beneath a sky that was part sunlight and part lowering clouds. I sat and and sketched for a while with my back against a tree. Beneath me, the pine needles were soft and damp, settling into cool autumn earth.
As someone who loves weather, I will tell you that the variety of autumn come as an enormous relief and joy. This week alone, we had a night of soaking rain, one day of those thick, fluffy snowflakes, and another day when it rained and snowed at exactly the same time. Once, when my nephew, Spencer, was little, I spent a summer evening pushing him in the backyard swing. At the top of a particularly high arc, I called out, “How’s the weather up there?” Spencer’s face turned suddenly serious; the kind of serious that happens when you’re about to be lectured by a five year old. “Auntie Yael,” he said sternly. “It’s not the weather time. It’s just the sunny-every-day time!” Which is about the best description of a California summer I’ve ever heard.
Here in Oregon, there’s more rain on the way tonight, blowing in from the Pacific to soothe a landscape that has seen far too much of “sunny-every-day time” these past few years. We’ll be here, curled up with a book or two, giving thanks for the weather time, and thinking of Spencer and his friends. They’re out in the western forests even now, caring for these beautiful lands that hold us all.