November has always been one of my favorite months. Back in the New England of my youth, November meant leafless branches pointing towards the sky and brown oak leaves rustling against a chill wind. Or, walks under gray skies shimmering with a bright sun behind a thin overcast with the collar upturned. Or, chilly Thanksgiving days under a leaden sky, the windows fogged from all the cooking going on in the kitchen. Or, back in a time when the practice was allowed, unusually warm days with the air thick with the smell of burning leaves. For my old friend Jack Lyon and my dear departed friend “Doc” Frechette, November was a month for “buttoning up” the homestead, plowing under the last of the gardens and stocking wood for the long winter ahead.

Come November the days are getting really short; one of the benefits of not having to change our clocks back here in Arizona is that, while it gets dark early, it’s not ungodly so like it gets back in New England. Music-wise, I always found myself gravitating to classical music and Pink Floyd – somehow, the starkness of the month meshed perfectly with the latter’s oftentimes bleak outlook. In November, the Church Year is winding down, and the Sundays after Pentecost (or, in the Roman Catholic tradition, “ordinary time”) are coming to close. Soon, green altar linen will be replaced with the purple of Advent and the spiritual preparation for once again welcoming the Christ Child into the world.

Novembers here in the Valley of the Sun are a little different. Oh sure, you can still get the gray or silvery-shiny overcast days, but the temperatures are warm enough for shorts and t-shirts. You can tell the locals because even though the temperatures are over 70 they’ve got long-sleeve shirts and long pants on. Some you’ll even see wearing a sweatshirt with a hoodie. To me, November has come to mean guiding the swimming pool from summer mode to winter mode – this year, a much more difficult task than usual! This year, it means the sight of bright orange golf balls rolling like tiny pumpkins across velvety putting greens, one after another, and thick winter rye to chip balls off of. November means open windows and open doors, with nary a sound of the A/C or heat being on. For us, combined with the scaling back of the watering schedule from two days a week to one, November is actually the cheapest month for utilities of the year.

Places and traditions may change, but November will always be a special month for me.