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Thursday, November 3, 2011

the NO in November

Thomas Hood, a British poet and humorist, who lived between the late 1700's and mid 1800's had this to say about November:

No sun--no moon!
No morn--no noon!
No dawn--no dusk--no proper time of day--
No sky--no earthly view--
No distance looking blue--

No road--no street--
No "t'other side the way"--
No end to any Row--
No indications where the Crescents go--

No top to any steeple--
No recognitions of familiar people--
No courtesies for showing 'em--
No knowing 'em!

No mail--no post--
No news from any foreign coast--
No park--no ring--no afternoon gentility--
No company--no nobility--

No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member--
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds,

Even though I am fond of November, I will concede that on some days it can feel like a month of "no's." Today, on November the Third, I'll say what has affected me the most regarding the "no's" on Hood's "list", and that is "no  bees"! 

Even though I realize that I "shoulda" anticipated their leaving, this is the first year since I have had my garden that I have had so many "visiting bees", and I was not prepared to have my "visiting bees" disappear so suddenly! 

Their absence makes me sad they went away so abruptly — without even saying goodbye!

As you might surmise, dear reader, from the number of blog entries which I have "dedicated" to my "visiting bees" during these past couple of months, including ones which you may find by clicking here as well as here and here and here, plus here and here, to not have them now is a bit of a loss.

Their sudden disappearance is not really a result of November, but, rather, it is a result of the unexpected snow and ice storm that we experienced in New York this past Saturday, which is something I touched on in this past Monday's post, which you may refer to by clicking here

That snow/ice storm left my Hyssop plants — which my bees were feasting upon as evidenced in images accompanied with the aforementioned links — caked with ice, as you can see in the photograph posted below:

This particular storm has also resulted in many people within the tri-state area still experiencing many "no's" this November — "no's" that were brought on in October! For, even though it has been five days since that storm, the aforementioned people have no power and, in many instances, no generator. 

Therefore, they are beginning the month of November with no heat, no hot water, no phone service, no (gasp) Internet connections, no means to cook or refrigerate food. As of today's blog posting over 677,000 had no power in Connecticut alone, and in some towns within that "nutmeg" state "power may not be restored until November 6th", according to a report which you may read in full by clicking here.

So, while the ice has since melted in my urban (NYC) garden, and the bees have not returned leaving me missing the dearly, I am extremely grateful to not have suffered the severe consequences of last Saturday's storm as my tri-state comrades continue to do. There is very little I can do for them except to acknowledge their plight in today's blog posts and extend my heartfelt sympathy.

As for me and my now absent bees, I plan to make a Virtual Story (a "genre" which I discussed in a blog post that you may refer to by clicking here) featuring them, so please continue to visit this blog for details which will also be available, and also please check my newly created Facebook Page (which was mentioned in yesterday's post) for updates.


  1. I'm just visiting you back and was delighted to see this poem here as I posted part of it myself a year ago here. I had no idea the poem is taht old though, especially when it reminds me of this Tom Waits song.

  2. Welcome, to my blog, Clare! I am glad you "visited back" especially with the wonderful links you shared. Thanks so much. I enjoyed both of the places they led me to: your post was fun and I found myself smiling at the way you introduced it with Tom Wait's lines, "November has tied me to a tree get word to April to rescue me". I was laughing because while Waits is lamenting for "April to rescue him", T.S. Eliot, as you most likely know given your expertise in poetry, is calling April the "cruelest" month, a fact that I blogged about this past April.

    I also appreciated your sharing the You Tube of Wait's song. Hauntingly beautiful; and it did not give me ohrwurms (-;

    Will you be returning to Aberdeenshire this year?


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