Warm days in November scare the hell out of me. It is like the world is ending. Not that I mind walking down the street without cringing in the cold, but late Novemberr seems wrong without the bite of the cold and the hunt for a scarf.
I feel as if the seasons and the colander are slowly diverging. It will snow in April this next year. But now the autumn still lingers, like ducks fighting for your last scrap of bread.