11/04/2022
Today is why I never trust November. Weather turned chilly and dark. A big storm was supposed to roll through, always welcome news. Instead we got a bit of a drizzle and bone-chilling breeze. Things warm up over the weekend. These are fickle days as we try to sneak up on winter. If we had gotten the actual precipitation promised, I would have been outside cheering. But instead November just uses the pretense of a storm to smuggle in a sneering frost. But cloud patterns were intriguing, shifting between light and dark, scowling and beatific. (Photo was taken last month on a similar stormy day.) I have to mentally prepare myself for the onslaught of winter. And I do that by frequently fleeing toward the spiny embrace of saguaros in our southern deserts. Having America’s warmest winter desert as a backyard makes it much easier for those of us who battle with seasonally induced melancholy. I hold on to that notion on dark days—that the sun is almost always shining in the Arizona desert. It comforts me greatly.
