Yesterday I told Marie that I was kind of ready for November. It has been such a wonderful and long summer and autumn has until now been warm and not too stormy. So November coming up did not scare me the way it usually does. Too bad Marie was not the only one to hear that… this morning I realised that some weather god had been listening and had now sent not only Boreas and his friends but Nemesis herself in all her fury.
It was painful going to work this morning with a strong and abruptly changeful gale directing awls of sleet to my forehead. Of course rain was not enough, it had to be sleet which all Scandinavians know is more painful to have pierced into your skin than rain or even snow.
Only Haydn and his autumn from The Seasons could save me and he did add some bitter sarcasm to my face as the chorus went Knurre, schnurre, knurre while I had one more splash of ice cold water coming from a passing car.
I thought this year would be different but I’ll just once more have to agree with poet Henrik Nordbrandt and his poem The Year Has 16 Months:
Året har 16 måneder: November
december, januar, februar, marts, april
maj, juni, juli, august, september
oktober, november, november, november, november.
I left it in Danish, but I think you get the point.
Take me away from this country. Please. Now.
Boreas having fun.
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