“In November you begin to know how long the winter will be.”—American journalist and novelist Martha Gellhorn (1908-1998), "November Afternoon," The Heart of Another (1941)
I took the image that accompanies this post a couple of days ago in Pondside Park in Harrington Park, a few towns away from me in Bergen County, NJ. I was coming back from a trip into Rockland County, NY when I saw this park on the side of the road, and pulled over for a walk.
I have increasingly felt that autumn is all too short a season in my part of the country, with warmer temperatures encroaching on the traditional point marking fall. The past several days, however, the temperatures have dropped and the winds have whipped up. I had to pull my scarf around me a little more tightly the other day as I circled this pond.
Leaf-changing—heck, leaf disappearance—can occur so rapidly these days. The magnificent profusion of colors seen on trees just a couple of weeks ago is all gone. The many leaves crunching beneath my feet were all brown, as were those that remained on trees for now.
So, to take up the
question posed by Gellhorn so long ago, how long will winter be? I might have
worried more about global warming if we continued to have balmy
temperatures at this point. For now—fingers crossed—Earth is back into its
usual rhythms, I hope.

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