I once read an essay that a Stehekin School student had written about November. It was a short piece and it was not intended to be an amusing composition, but the depth of this young man’s negative sentiment about the gray, wet days of November are ultimately entertaining, capturing the feeling that is common in this in-between season.
By mid-November most of the colorful leaves have fallen, faded brown in piles on the ground. The crystal clear sun’s light is obscured by clouds and the daylight hours are short, while the mountains’ shadows get longer every day. The days start late and nights comes early. The rains that we hoped for during the dry, hot days of summer finally arrive, cold and unrelenting as we watch the snow line come ever closer to the valley floor. The baring of the trees and the lack of direct sunlight transforms the Stehekin valley to an almost monochromatic world. There is much beauty that remains, but it’s almost like a shadow of its former glory.

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