It’s the time of year when sunny days become scarce, the trees are stripped of what leaves they had left, and a dusting of frost can be seen on the grass as I walk to class.
November. Technically it is the final month of Fall, but in Minnesota, it marks the beginning of the slow decline into never-ending Winter. We begin pulling out our heavier coats, along with our hats, gloves, and warm scarves. It’s a dismal month, cold and dreary. We sit indoors longing for sunny September, dreading the imminent arrival of snow.
It’s not all bad, though. My birthday is in a week or so, which is something to look forward to. And around now, my normally adventure-seeking soul stills and weekends spent doing nothing in the apartment are a blessing rather than a curse.
These days are for staying in my room all day watching out the window from my desk as the wind turbines spin.
They’re for sipping a cup of hot tea and plunging into a new book.
They’re for messy hair and curling up in old grandpa sweaters.
And these days are for listening to songs like this one: