I recant

OK, so Friday’s post was not entirely justified. The ninth month of the old Roman calendar, November, isn’t necessarily any darker than the tenth month, nor than the first one of the new year, named after Janus the god with two faces. I knew it when I wrote it, and knew it even more clearly today.

The forecast this morning was to continue cloudy with occasional showers becoming more frequent in the afternoon. Now it’s Saturday night, a dark November night, but the day, however short, had its share of surprises.

The first was a small strip of blue sky to the northwest and then some brightness from the southeast as the cloud began to thin there. The lighthouse was illuminated over at Mauger’s Beach, you could hear the surf crashing all the way across the harbour, and the long shoal out at Thrumcap was all white water.

Soon the sun was shining and the world came alive the way it does when sun shines right after the rain. The stones in the new walkway glowed in the low golden light.

The split wood from last spring was still piled against the pine tree over by the wellhead.
And the burning bush was now bare except for its crop of tiny bright berries.
Later, when we were driving out to look after the girls, the sun came out again in the middle of a heavy shower, a gorgeous double rainbow arched over the city, and every car produced huge plumes of bright spray along the highway. It was, in fact, quite a beautifully lit November day.

Tonight is dark, but then most nights are. We drove with the girls looking for early Christmas lights, and there were a few. There is a moon that’s been trying to shine through tonight, and Anna showed us a star.

It is November, and it’s a dark enough month, but, like they say, it could be worse.