November, this ain't a love letter

    Why, oh why do you have to arrive  every year?

 Why do you always wear the same gloomy jacket, bringing only darkness and sucking all the day light the moment you arrive?

Why are you so cold, wet, spooky, miserable?
Is there any chance that you could sometimes, at least once every five years, be sunny and warm and cheerful?

If that's not possible, maybe you could skip a year, not arrive at all? 

That would be okay too.
I don't mind the fall, when the trees are wearing their colourful clothes parading on the autumn lights - that's pretty cool actually. 

I don't mind the first frost on the grass, the crispy air ,that' s refreshing.
I can even handle the winter itself, the snow and the freezing temperatures..I don't like it, but I can deal with it.

But what I can't deal with, is you, November.
When you come, the light goes, the warmth is gone,there is just a whole lot of nothingness...and every year the same package...

   Don't you think,that you could find it a little bit overwhelming to me, to deal with this year after year after year.....

  I am pretty fed up with you,to be honest.

 You make me all cranky and behaving like a mad cow, getting agitated and irritated for no good reason. 

I don't like myself when you arrive, you have bad influence on me.
So please, could you cut me some slack, or is that too much to ask?

Or at least could you let the trees keep their lovely colourful clothes just  a little bit longer? What's the master plan ripping them off too,since you don't seem to have anything better to replace them with?

Could you maybe consider bringing the big blanket of snow when you arrive, or is it too heavy load to carry with you?

Yeah, I warned you, this ain't a love song, far from that actually.
But I am glad that you will soon be gone again, giving room to December, which is a whole different story, but I get to that one later.

November, you gloomy little devil, I wish you a good journey back to wherever it is you came from in the first place.

 I can't say that I will miss you when you leave, but I know that no matter how hard I wish,

you just keep coming back, every year...until then:
So long, adios and arrivederci, don't let the door hit you when you leave.

( photos © Anneli Laulumaa )