Goodbye November

November comes 

And November goes, 

With the last red berries 

And the first white snows.

With night coming early, 

And dawn coming late, 

And ice in the bucket 

And frost by the gate.

The fires burn 

And the kettles sing, 

And earth sinks to rest 

Until next spring.

-  Elizabeth Coatsworth

You know that winter is coming when there is only one lone boat left in the harbor.  Now it's time to sip hot cider and curl up under a blanket with a good book.