I heard the honk of Canadian geese this morning, and saw them in chevron flight as they crossed my view and headed across the mighty Hudson River and, naturally, the great Joni Mitchell song, Urge For Going, popped into the mental iPod.  Her minor chord mastery sets the tone for our weather here, and the weather that is to come.  Yes, we had a freakish blizzardette that ravaged the northeast and left many without power for weeks, way back in late October.  But November proved viable, with daytime temperatures in the 60s and the air smelling rich and loamy, like the forest’s wormy scent after a summery rainfall, when you’re a little kid, looking for salamanders under ferns, in the woods at camp. 

It was a tease here, these November air inversions, unfairly trapping the last of summer’s warmth close for no reason than to lift the hearts of Real New Yorkers, not letting go until, as we all knew it would, the jet stream shifted, reluctantly, inevitably, and cool Canadian air swept the last of the leaves from our trees.

So now it is finally time to weatherproof our snow shoes, find our gloves, hats, scarves and warm winter apparel from the back of our closets, and face the music.

Winter is nearly upon us.  The sun’s light is thin.  The year is coming to a close and, with the shortness of the days, there is more time to think, to dream, to ponder the possibilities of the New Year, soon upon us.  The year 2011 has the urge for going, and I think it’s time for it to go.

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