I always found that November could be a useless month; but to qualify it in this way would mean that we alternately accept that it is useless, that it brings nothing, that it is superfluous, that it has no effect or even that it does not fulfill its purpose.
If September and October goals are easy to understand, December even better, then November, in the middle of it all, what would we be given for?
I was annoyed by November for a long time, and then, as the years went by, I wondered what this month of transition could be for; because if September smells of figs and the tan that is slowly fading, if October pushes us to go find the mushrooms, then without a doubt, November requires patience, wins the wait and imposes a transition of life, of rhythm, of colors and smells.
The Japanese call it “Shimo Tsuki” which literally means “falling jelly month”; November is like this, it brings down the last recalcitrants, it embodies the beginning of winter, the shorter days, imposes a certain penumbra, forces us to take a deep breath, a time of rest, patience and offers us the joy of pick up what he has dropped.
Because what is picked up by the shovel is delicious, fallen from the tree, on the ground, it is advisable to cherish the last gifts of nature, to take care of them and to preserve the naturalness offered for the winter often already there. Jars, preserves, jams, grogs, simmering, tasting...the atmosphere is at home, turning inwards, taking the time to do things and telling yourself that when night falls at six o'clock, it is finally a chance to be able to get together with others, your family but above all yourself.