November

Poetry, Quotations, Folklore
Sayings, Links, References
Ideas, Garden Chores

Compiled by Michael P. Garofalo

Quotes     Links     References     Chores     Home Photos

Over the river and through the woods
Trot fast my dapple gray.
Spring over the ground
Like a hunting hound
On this Thanksgiving Day, Hey!
Over the river and through the woods
Now Grandmother's face I spy.
Hurrah for the fun,
Is the pudding done?
Hurrah for the pumpkin pie.
-   English folksong, It's Raining, It's Pouring 

I saw the lovely arch
Of rainbow span the sky,
The gold sun burning
As the rain swept by.
-   Elizabeth Coatsworth,  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.
-  Clyde Watson

So dull and dark are the November days.
The lazy mist high up the evening curled,
And now the morn quite hides in smoke and haze;
The place we occupy seems all the world.
-   John Clare, November

Our Father, fill our hearts, we pray,
With gratitude Thanksgiving Day;
For food and raiment Thou dost give,
That we in comfort here may live.
-   Luther Cross, Thanksgiving Day  

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 -
November!
-   Thomas Hood, No!

The last seed
falls from the sunflower-
empty pond.

The long awaited
rattle of rain on rooftops-
Thanksgiving Day.
-  Michael P. Garofalo, Cuttings  

In the evenings
I scrape my fingernails clean,
hunt through old catalogues for new seed,
oil work boots and shears.
This garden is no metaphor --
more a task that swallows you into itself,
earth using, as always, everything it can.
-  Jan Hirshfield, November, Remembering Voltaire

Seasons and Time

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.
-  Emily Dickinson

Autumn - Quotes for Gardeners

Give me the end of the year an' its fun
When most of the plannin' an' toilin' is done;
Bring all the wanderers home to the nest,
Let me sit down with the ones I love best,
Hear the old voices still ringin' with song,
See the old faces unblemished by wrong,
See the old table with all of its chairs
An' I'll put soul in my Thanksgivin' prayers.
-  Edgar A. Guest, Thanksgiving

A few days ago I walked along the edge of the lake and was treated 
to the crunch and rustle of leaves with each step I made. The acoustics 
of this season are different and all sounds, no matter how hushed, 
are as crisp as autumn air.
-   Eric Sloane

All in November's soaking mist
We stand and prune the naked tree,
While all our love and interest
Seem quenched in the blue-nosed misery.
-  Ruth Pitter, 1897-1992, The Diehards, 1941

The sky is streaked with them
burning hole in black space --
like fireworks, someone says
all friendly in the dark chill
of Newcomb Hollow in November,
friends known only by voices.

We lie on the cold sand and it
embraces us, this beach
where locals never go in summer
and boast of their absence. Now
we lie eyes open to the flowers
of white ice that blaze over us

and seem to imprint directly
on our brains. I feel the earth,
rolling beneath as we face out
into the endlessness we usually
ignore. Past the evanescent
meteors, infinity pulls hard.
-   Marge Piercy, Leonids Over Us

How wonderful it would be if we could help our children
and grandchildren to learn thanksgiving at an early age. 
Thanksgiving opens the doors.  It changes a child's
personality.  A child is resentful, negative—or thankful.
Thankful children want to give, they radiate happiness,
they draw people.
-   Sir John Templeton

When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain.
-  Guns N' Roses, November Rain

The white sun
like a moth
on a string
circles the southpole.
-   A. R. Ammons, Late November  

The name 'November' is believed to derive from 'novem' which is the Latin for the number 'nine'.  In the ancient Roman calendar November was the ninth month after March.  As part of the seasonal calendar November is the time of the 'Snow Moon' according to Pagan beliefs and the period described as the 'Moon of the Falling Leaves' by Black Elk.
-   Mystical WWW

The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night,
Ya-honk!  he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation:
The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listen closer,
I find its purpose and place up there toward the November sky.
-   Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1855, I Celebrate Myself, Line 238

The body is like a November birch facing the full moon
And reaching into the cold heavens.
In these trees there is no ambition, no sodden body, no leaves,
Nothing but bare trunks climbing like cold fire!

My last walk in the trees has come. At dawn
I must return to the trapped fields,
To the obedient earth.
The trees shall be reaching all the winter.

It is a joy to walk in the bare woods.
The moonlight is not broken by the heavy leaves.
The leaves are down, and touching the soaked earth,
Giving off the odors that partridges love.
-   Robert Bly, Solitude Late at Night in the Woods 

You shared the spark,
You fanned the flame,
You fed the fires,
You passed the Names.
For all those known and
For all unnamed,
For all who have walked the Way;
We raise this toast,
With thanks this day.
-  Mike Garofalo,  Kindreds, Cuttings  

How cold it is! Even the lights are cold;
They have put shawls of fog around them, see!
What if the air should grow so dimly white
That we would lose our way along the paths
Made new by walls of moving mist receding
The more we follow. . . . What a silver night!
That was our bench the time you said to me
The long new poem -- but how different now,
How eerie with the curtain of the fog
Making it strange to all the friendly trees!
-   Sara Teasdale, A November Night  

It's all a farce, – these tales they tell
About the breezes sighing,
And moans astir o'er field and dell,
Because the year is dying.
-   Paul Laurence Dunbar,  Lyrics of a Lowly Life

Cloud Hands: Taijiquan and Qigong

This is the treacherous month when autumn days

With summer's voice come bearing summer's gifts.

Beguiled, the pale down-trodden aster lifts

Her head and blooms again. The soft, warm haze

Makes moist once more the sere and dusty ways,

And, creeping through where dead leaves lie in drifts,

The violet returns. Snow noiseless sifts

Ere night, an icy shroud, which morning's rays

Wildly shine upon and slowly melt,

Too late to bid the violet live again.

The treachery, at last, too late, is plain;

Bare are the places where the sweet flowers dwelt.

What joy sufficient hath November felt?

What profit from the violet's day of pain?   

-  Helen Hunt Jackson, Autumn Sonnet 

On this bleary white afternoon,
are there fires lit up in heaven
against such faking of quickness
and light, such windy discoursing?

While November numbly collapses,
this beech tree, heavy as death
on the lawn, braces for throat-
cutting ice, bandaging snow.
-    Edwin Honig, November Through a Giant Copper Beech

Yea, I have looked, and seen November there;
The changeless seal of change it seemed to be,
Fair death of things that, living once, were fair;
Bright sign of loneliness too great for me,
Strange image of the dread eternity,
In whose void patience how can these have part,
These outstretched feverish hands, this restless heart?
-  William Morris, November

All the cabbages in our garden are robust and green to the core;
All the peppers are dead and black, not red anymore.
The onions are thriving, the tomatoes all gone,
The lettuce is rising, the pecans all stored;
It’s wet now in Red Bluff, Winter’s knocking at the door.
- Mike Garofalo, Cuttings

Fog in November, trees have no heads,
Streams only sound, walls suddenly stop
Half-way up hills, the ghost of a man spreads
Dung on dead fields for next year's crop.
I cannot see my hand before my face,
My body does not seem to be my own,
The world becomes a far-off, foreign place,
People are strangers, houses silent, unknown.
-   Leonard Clark, Fog in November

Dismal November! me it soothes to view,

At parting day, the scanty foliage fall

From the wet fruit tree, or the grey stone wall,

Whose cold films glisten with unwholesome dew;

To watch the yellow mists from the dank earth

Enfold the neighboring copse; while on as they pass

The silent rain-drops bend the long rank grass

Which wraps some blossom's unmaturéd birth.
-   Charles Lloyd, To Autumn

I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Stand shadow less like silence, listening
To silence.
-   Thomas Hood, Ode: Autumn, 1827

My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.
-  Robert Frost, My November Guest

November - Short Poems and Haiku by Michael P. Garofalo

T  hanks for time to be together, turkey, talk, and tangy weather.
H  for harvest stored away, home, and hearth, and holiday.
A  for autumn's frosty art, and abundance in the heart.
N  for neighbors, and November, nice things, new things to remember.
K  for kitchen, kettles' croon, kith and kin expected soon.
S  for sizzles, sights, and sounds, and something special that about.
    That spells THANKS for joy in living and a jolly good Thanksgiving.                   
-   Aileen Fisher, All in a Word

Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun!

One mellow smile through the soft vapory air,

Ere, o'er the frozen earth, the loud winds run,

Or snows are sifted o'er the meadows bare.

One smile on the brown hills and naked trees,

And the dark rocks whose summer wreaths are cast,

And the blue gentian-flower, that, in the breeze,

Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.

Yet a few sunny days, in which the bee

Shall murmur by the hedge that skirts the way,

The cricket chirp upon the russet lea,

And man delight to linger in thy ray.

Yet one rich smile, and we will try to bear

The piercing winter frost, and winds, and darkened air.

-  William Cullen Bryant, 1794 - 1828,   Autumn

"This association of death with fertility provided the theological background for a great number of end-of-harvest
festivals celebrated by many cultures across Eurasia.  Like Samhain, these festivals (which, for example,
included the rituals of the Dyedy (“Ancestors”) in the Slavic countries and the Vetrarkvöld festival in Scandinavia)
linked the successful resumption of the agricultural cycle (after a period of apparent winter “death”) to the
propitiation of the human community’s dead.  The dead have passed away from the social concerns of
this world to the primordial chaos of the Otherworld where all fertility has its roots, but they are still bound
to the living by ties of kinship.  It was hoped that, by strengthening these ties precisely when the natural
cycle seemed to be passing through its own moment of death, the community of the living would be better
able to profit from the energies of increase that lead out of death back to life.  Dead kin were the Tribe’s
allies in the Otherworld, making it certain that the creative forces deep within the Land were being
directed to serve the needs of the human community.  They were, in Celtic terms, a “humanising”
factor within the Fomorian realm.

Whatever the specific elements had been that determined the proper date of the end-of-harvest honouring
of the dead in various places, by the ninth and tenth centuries the unifying influence of the Church had led
to concentrating the rituals on November 1st and November 2nd.  The first date was All Hallows, when the
most spiritually powerful of the Christian community’s dead (the Saints) were invoked to strengthen the
living community, in a way quite consistent with pre-Christian thought.  The second date, All Souls, was
added on (first as a Benedictine practice, beginning ca.  988) as an extension of this concept, enlarging
it to include the dead of families and local communities.  Under the mantle of the specifically Christian
observances, however, older patterns of ancestor veneration were preserved."
-   Sinquanon's Journal, Samhain

Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color and a time of maturity; 
but it is also breadth, and depth, and distance.  What man can stand with autumn 
on a hilltop and fail to see the span of his world and the meaning of the rolling 
hills that reach to the far horizon?
-   Hal Borland

I am rich today with autumn's gold,
All that my covetous hands can hold;
Frost-painted leaves and goldenrod,
A goldfinch on a milkweed pod,
Huge golden pumpkins in the field
With heaps of corn from a bounteous yield,
Golden apples heavy on the trees
Rivaling those of Hesperides,
Golden rays of balmy sunshine spread
Over all like butter on warm bread;
And the harvest moon will this night unfold
The streams running full of molten gold.
Oh, who could find a dearth of bliss
With autumn glory such as this!
-   Gladys Harp

"They began now to gather in the small harvest they had, and to fit up their houses and dwellings against winter, being all well recovered in health and strength and had all things in good plenty.  For as some were thus employed in affairs abroad, others were exercising in fishing, about cod and bass and other fish, of which they took good store, of which every family had their portion.  All the summer there was no want; and now began to come in store of fowl, as winter approached, of which this place did abound when they came first (but afterward decreased by degrees).  And besides waterfowl there was great store of wild turkeys, of which they took many, besides venison, etc.  Besides they had about a peck of meal a week to a person, or now since harvest, Indian corn to that proportion.  Which made many afterwards write so largely of their plenty here to their friends in England, which were not feigned but true reports.” 
-   William Bradford, 1621 

Lo! sweeten’d with the summer light,
The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow,
Drops in a silent autumn night.
All its allotted length of days
The flower ripens in its place,
Ripens and fades, and falls, and hath no toil,
Fast-rooted in the fruitful soil.

-   Alfred Lord Tennyson, The Lotus-Eaters

It is hard to hear the north wind again,
And to watch the treetops, as they sway.

They sway, deeply and loudly, in an effort,
So much less than feeling, so much less than speech,

Saying and saying, the way things say
On the level of that which is not yet knowledge:

A revelation not yet intended.
It is like a critic of God, the world

And human nature, pensively seated
On the waste throne of his own wilderness.

Deeplier, deeplier, loudlier, loudlier,
The trees are swaying, swaying, swaying.

-   Wallace Stevens, The Region November

             In Flanders fields the poppies blow
             Between the crosses, row on row,
             That mark our place; and in the sky
             The larks, still bravely singing, fly
             Scarce heard amid the guns below

             We are the dead. Short days ago
             We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
             Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
             In Flanders fields.
                   
                         -  Colonel John McRae, In Flanders Fields
                            November 11th - Veteran's Day in America, 
                            Amistice Day,1918, Remembered

The wild November come at last
Beneath a veil of rain;
The night winds blows its folds aside,
Her face is full of pain.
The latest of her race, she takes
The Autumn's vacant throne:
She has but one short moon to live,
And she must live alone.
-  Richard Henry Stoddard, November

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the
landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter.
Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show.
-   Andrew Wyeth

I am the ancient Apple Queen,
As once I was so am I now.
For evermore a hope unseen,
Betwixt the blossom and the bough.

Autumn arrives, array'd in splendid mein;
Vines, cluster'd full, add to the beauteous scene,
And fruit-trees cloth'd profusely laden, nod,
Complaint bowing to the fertile sod.
-   Farmer's Almanac (1818)

Over the river and through the wood
Oh, how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes
And bites the nose,
As over the ground we go.

Over the river and through the wood
To have a first-rate play.
Hear the bells ring,
Ting-a-ling-ling!
Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!

-   Linda Maria Child, Over the River

Weather Lore

If there’s ice in November to bear a duck
There’ll be nothing after but sludge and muck.

On All Hallow's Day cut a chip from the beech tree;
If it be dry the winter will prove warm.

Soon we will plunge ourselves into cold shadows,
And all of summer's stunning afternoons will be gone.
I already hear the dead thuds of logs below
Falling on the cobblestones and the lawn.

All of winter will return to me:
derision, Hate, shuddering, horror, drudgery and vice,
And exiled, like the sun, to a polar prison,
My soul will harden into a block of red ice.

-   Charles Baudelaire, Autumn Song

The spirits of the air live on the smells
Of fruit; and joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees."
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat;
Then rose, girded himself, and o'er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

-   William Blake, To Autumn

          Splitting dry kindling
                  on a damp November day--
          wind-chimes tinkling.
                        
                  -    Michael P. Garofalo, Cuttings

The acrid scents of autumn,
Reminiscent of slinking beasts, make me fear

-   D. H. Lawrence, Dolor of Autumn, 1916

If I'm ever reborn, I want to be a gardener—
there's too much to do for one lifetime! 
-   Karl Foerster

The snapping of pitch from a burning log,
The faint scent of pine filling the room.
Flames leaping about as if it were a ballet
Performing for its audience.
The soft, comforting glow of candlelight,
Bringing with it serenity and quiet thoughts.

-   Linda Christensen, Autumn's Beauty

The wind that makes music in November corn is in a hurry. 
The stalks hum, the loose husks whisk skyward in half-playing 
swirls, and the wind hurries on.... A tree tries to argue, bare 
limbs waving, but there is no detaining the wind.
-   Aldo Leopold

In the garden, Autumn is, indeed the crowning glory of the year,
bringing us the fruition of months of thought and care and toil.
And at no season, safe perhaps in Daffodil time, do we get such
superb  colour effects as from August to November.
-   Rose G. Kingsley, The Autumn Garden, 1905

Saw the rainbow in the heaven,
In the eastern sky the rainbow,
Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?"
And the good Nokomis answered:
"'Tis the heaven of flowers you see there;
All the wild-flowers of the forest,
All the lilies of the prairie,
When on earth they fade and perish,
Blossom in that heaven above us.
-  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Song of Hiawatha

In 1863, Abraham Lincoln, decleared the last Thursday 
of November to be a National Day of Thanksgiving.

The thinnest yellow light of November is more warming and 
exhilarating than any wine they tell of.  The mite which November 
contributes becomes equal in value to the bounty of July.
-   Henry David Thoreau

Was it the ghost of autumn in that smell
Of underground, or God's blank heart grown kind,
That sent a happy dream to him in hell?

-   Siegfried Sasson, Break of Day, 1918

There was three kings into the east, 
Three kings both great and high, 
And they hae sworn a solemn oath 
John Barleycorn should die. 

They took a plough and plough'd him down, 
Put clods upon his head, 
And they hae sworn a solemn oath 
John Barleycorn was dead.

-  Robert Burns, John Barleycorn
Harvest Home

Have you ever noticed a tree standing naked against the sky, 
How beautiful it is?  
All its branches are outlined, and in its nakedness 
There is a poem, there is a song.  
Every leaf is gone and it is waiting for the spring.  
When the spring comes, it again fills the tree with 
The music of many leaves, 
Which in due season fall and are blown away. 
And this is the way of life.
-   Krishnamurti

Two sounds of autumn are unmistakable, the hurrying rustle of crisp leaves blown
along the street or road by a gusty wind, and the gabble of a flock of migrating geese. 
Both are warnings of chill days ahead, fireside and topcoat weather.
-   Hal Borland

The falling leaves drift by the window
The autumn leaves of red and gold....
I see your lips, the summer kisses
The sunburned hands, I used to hold
Since you went away, the days grow long
And soon I'll hear ol' winter's song.
But I miss you most of all my darling,
When autumn leaves start to fall.

-  Johnny Mercer, lyrics, Autumn Leaves

Harvest home, harvest home!
We've plowed, we've sowed
We've reaped, we've mowed
And brought safe home
Every load.
-  Harvest Home Song
Lore and Magick of the Harvest

                 Crown'd with the sickle, and the sheaten sheaf,
                 While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain,
                 Comes jovial on.
                                            -   James Thomson, Autumn, 1730

This is the year's despair: some wind last night
Utter'd too soon the irrevocable word,
And the leaves heard it, and the low clouds heard;
So a wan morning dawn'd of sterile light;
Flowers droop'd, or show'd a startled face and white;
The cattle cower'd, and one disconsolate bird
Chirp'd a weak note; last came this mist and blurr'd
The hills, and fed upon the fields like blight.
Ah, why so swift despair! There yet will be
Warm noons, the honey'd leavings of the year,
Hours of rich musing, ripest autumn's core,
And late-heap'd fruit, and falling hedge-berry,
Blossoms in cottage-crofts, and yet, once more,
A song, not less than June's, fervent and clear.
-  Edward Dowden, Later Autumn Song

    A sun-drenched sky
          on windy autumn day;
           out across open fields
                                     passing clouds make shadow play.

                       Silent beauty in multi-hues
                      but ominous in a sense;
                                   for though today be delightful
                                              darkness soon gains precedence.

                                                         -   Ray, Psychology of Seasons, 1997

Besides the autumn poets sing,
A few prosaic days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the haze.

A few incisive mornings,
A few ascetic eves, -
Gone Mr. Bryant's golden-rod,
And Mr. Thomson's sheaves.
-   Emily Dickinson, Nature: XLIX

When shrieked
The bleak November winds, and smote the woods,
And the brown fields were herbless, and the shades
That met above the merry rivulet
Were spoiled, I sought, I loved them still; they seemed
Like old companions in adversity.
-   William Cullen Bryant, A Winter Piece

Let confusion be the design
and all my thoughts go,
swallowed by desire: recess
from promises in
the November of your arms.
Release from the rose: broken
reeds, strawpale,
through which, from easy
branches that mock the blood
a few leaves fall. There
the mind is cradled,
stripped also and returned
to the ground, a trivial
and momentary clatter. Sleep
and be brought down, and so
condone the world, eased of
the jagged sky and all
its petty imageries, flying
birds, its fogs and windy
phalanxes . . .
-   William Carlos Williams, Design for November

 

November is the eleventh and penultimate month of the year in the Gregorian Calendar and one of
four Gregorian months with the length of 30 days.
November begins in western tropical astrology with the sun in the sign of Scorpio (astrology) and ends
in the sign of Sagittarius (astrology). Astronomically speaking, the sun actually begins in the constellation
of Libra, passes through Scorpius from approximately the 24th through the 29th and ends in the constellation
of Ophiuchus, which is the only zodiacal constellation that is not associated with an astrological sign.  
In Latin, novem means "nine". November was also the ninth month in the Roman calendar until a
monthless winter period was divided between January and February.  
In old Japanese calendar, the month is called Shimo tsuki (霜月).
- November - Wikipedia

A warm November is the sign of a bad Winter.

Onion skins very thin,
Mild Winter coming in;
Onion skins thick and tough,
Coming Winter cold and rough.

Flowers bloomin' in late Autumn,
A sure sign of a bad Winter comin'.

As high as the weeds grow,
So will the bank of snow.

Thunder in the Fall foretells a cold Winter.

November - Associations

November

Links and References

Annie's Month of November

Apple Lore

An Annotated & Illustrated Collection of Worldwide Links to Mythologies,
Fairy Tales & Folklore, Sacred Arts & Sacred Traditions.   By Kathleen Jenks, Ph.D.

Autumn and Thanksgiving Poetry

Autumn - A Celebration of Tradition in Vermont   

Autumn Greetings - Customs and Lore: September - December.  By Kathleen Jenks, Ph.D.. 

Autumn in Milan    Hypertext poem by Fontaine Roberson.   

Autumn Poetry Collection

Autumn - Quotes, Poems, Sayings and Quips for Gardeners  

A Blessed Samhain

Can Teach: Songs and Poems

Cuttings - November.   Short poems by Michael P. Garofalo.   

Daily Lore -  November

Day of the Dead  (Dia de los Muertos)    Links

Day of the Dead Holiday in Mexico - Links

Day of the Dead Information   

Day of the Dead Guide   Peoples Guide to Mexico. 

Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) in Mexico.    By Katherine Jenks. 

Fall - Autumn Poetry   

Fall Poems.   By Linda Copp.   

General Folklore and Mythology Links

German Folklore and Customs for Autumn

In Search of Halloween: Myth and Reality

Month by Month Poetry: September, October, November; K-2.   Compiled by Marian Reiner. 

Mrs. Titus's Third Grade

November Holiday Links by Yahoo   

November Holidays and Celebrations.    Compiled by Sue LaBeau.

November Holidays and Observances  

November Ideas for Teachers

November Lore    Many interesting facts about the holidays and lore of November.   "The eleventh month of 
the Gregorian calendar and the third of Autumn's rule.   The name is derived from Novem, the Latin word for 
nine, as November was the ninth month in Rome's oldest calendar.  In the Celtic tradition, winter began 
on November 1 and was the first day of the Celtic year." 

November - Mystical WWW

November Quotes and Poems

November Poetry - Catholic    

November - Short Poems and Haiku by Michael P. Garofalo

November - Songs and Poems    

November - Wikipedia

The Orchard of the Great Apple Goddes, Pomona 

Quotations about the Months of the Year

Quotes for Gardeners    Over 3,100 quotes arranged by over 140 topics.  

Samhain: Season of Death and Renewal.  By Alexei Kondratiev. 

School of the Seasons    By Waverly Fitzgerald.   November 

Some November Poems

Thanksgiving and Autumn Poetry Index  

Thanksgiving Greeting E-Cards

Thanksgiving Links

Thanksgiving Poetry   

Thanksgiving Poetry Index

Scenes From Our Garden in November
Red Bluff, California
Karen and Mike Garofalo

November Garden Chores

Red Bluff, North Sacramento Valley, California, USA

USDA Zone 9

Typical Weather for Our Area

Removing dead and non-productive vegetable crops. 
Turn in composted steer manure and compost into vegetable garden.
Ordering seed and garden catalogs.  
Planting potted trees and shrubs.  
Putting winter crops in the ground: onions, beets, chard, cabbage
Placing cold sensitive potted plants in protected areas or indoors.
Planting bulbs.
Prune and mulch dormant perennials. 
Storing and repairing tools.  
Cleaning, storing, repairing and removing gasoline from equipment. 
Fertilize with 20-9-9 or 15-15-15. 
Trees without leaves need little or no watering.   
Reduce or eliminate watering depending upon rainfall, normally 3.1 inches in November.
Picking pumpkins, squash, colored corn, and other crops for Thanksgiving decorations.
Pruning vines.  
Rake leaves and add to compost piles and mulch layers.
Lawn care: aerate soil and fertilize.    

November Gardening Chores and Tips


Earth Wise November Creations Tips

The Garden Helper Tips for November

Louisiana State University November Tips

Northwest News: Home and Garden Tips

Oak Hill Tips for November

Oregon State University Tips

Seasonal Garden Chores - Links

52 Weeks in the California Garden by Richard Smaus

The Gay Gardener - November

Top November Garden Projects by Ed Hume in the Pacific Northwest

November Gardening Tips from Ortho   

Garden Pursuits - November (All Zones)