|
About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
|
Daily Cascade #1100937 added November 5, 2025 at 3:59pm
Restrictions: None
On November
Prompt: What is your favorite November tradition? Write about this in your Blog entry today.
-------
No wonder some call November the season of nesting! Romantic wording though this might be, the month isn't only putting on a sweater and feeling warm. It is a time for celebrating life, what was and what is, and feeling grateful for everything.
When my family was intact, that is my husband was still alive and kids hadn't flown the coop yet, I used to light candles, every now and then during this month, not just for their scent, but for the flickering, motion-filled ambiance they offered against the grayness of the November sky.
Another thing we did in November, way back when, when we lived up north, was the raking of the fall leaves. At the time, we had a two-acre yard, with tall oak, elm, red maple, and eastern pine trees. plus a small apple orchard. This meant bags and bags of dead leaves needing to be raked. I think I got my best exercise raking those leaves during those days, despite the fact that our New-Foundland Joe would jump into the piles, scatter them frolicking, and give us a hard time. But he was really so cute, and despite our weariness, we enjoyed his antics.
That is...until Thanksgiving, the USA tradition that placed gratitude in the center of our lives. So, we started getting ready for Thanksgiving, several days earlier. During those pre-Thanksgiving days, something always simmered on the stove, beef and bone stock, chili, and even apple cider to be offered--warm with spices--to our sons when they came home from school.
Then, afterwards, came the cooking marathon of the Thanksgiving day for my family and guests, too, if we got lucky to have guests. Later on, when we moved down south, we celebrated Thanksgiving with some friends, especially a friend who insisted to host us because she just couldn't not-see her many friends as well as us during the holiday. Luckily, she had a very big house with very big dining room, and I still contributed what I could, although she didn't ask me or her other guests for contributions. A few years ago, she passed away from cancer and her whole family scattered all over the continent. But I still recall her hospitality and her lavish Thanksgiving dinners.
My family, my late husband, and our friends who are no more made November a month of foundation with a cozy reminder to be grateful for all the people who came and went out of my life. So, November with its deep shadows and bursts of sunlight, every now and then, is still a month to savor. This is because, sometimes, the greatest joys are found in my memories and the stillness and gratitude in me that they inspire.
|
© Copyright 2025 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Joy has granted InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
