Member-only story
The Hurricanes of November
Strong winds blow and heavy clouds obscure the sun.
It is November third, election day, and I’m sitting in the backyard, casually scrolling through stories on Medium, drinking my morning coffee, finishing a plain bagel. Today’s Medium stories are the usual mix of dire, loopy drastic, hopeful and lunatic optimism. Eric J Scholl makes a plea to ‘love thy neighbor,’ and I wonder what he thinks he means by that. Susan Orlean, as she usually does, nails it. Roz Warren notes that she made $700 dollars writing about the worst day of her life and I shake off considering the worst day of my life and if today will top it. Jessica Wildfire writes about orgasms, and it occurs to me that I haven’t had the least bit of physical contact — not even handshake never mind orgasm — in a time too long to sanely contemplate.
The day wouldn’t be that cold, except for the crisp sting of a blustery wind out of the North kicking up leaves. Between wind, cloud and sun, the temperature wavers. I put down the phone and put my hands in my pocket to warm them. I’m still thinking about Eric Scholls exhortations to love thy neighbor. Taking a deep breath I look up and notice something. I’ve lived in New England for many years, and I’ve never seen this in November.
One tree is completely denuded of leaves, its Autumn turning complete. An other…
