I have always had such a love/hate experience with November. The barrenness, the grey days, the leafless trees, the gathering chill.  It used to put me in a royal funk each year.  Anyone in the same boat? But finally I am able to just see it as a moving along of time, and not just a preface to icy winter. Spring is my second favorite season, and that comes along- at least here- late March and April.  So that which dies, arises again phoenix-like come warmer weather. “You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintery light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen.”― Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast The Turning of the Leaves- The leaves as they spark into wild color just before they die are the world’s oldest performance art, and everything we see is celebrating one last violently hued hurrah before the black and white silence of winter.” ― Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet: Thoughts on Change, Grace, and Learning the Hard Way Oh, the love the flaming colors of late autumn. Each tree seems some work of art, painted…….