here in new england, we are in the throes of our first-of-the-season winter storm warning - and it's not even time for the season to begin. if you've been reading these ramblings for any length of time, you know i have a love/hate relationship with snow. normally i anticipate the first flakes with glee and, when it arrives, i am wonderstruck all over again. but this year feels different already. i think it's because i haven't had november yet. i need time to linger in the garden, bedding plants down for the cold, to collect the spent seeds and package them up for spring. time to tidy up the yard and pile away the adirondack chairs and push the little girl one more time before the swing comes down. time to take a last walk in the woods in the quiet, leafless sunshine to collect greens and twigs and vines for the winter window box. i need time to pause, quietly, and wait for winter to begin. i need my november and, if the forecasts are indeed correct, this may be the year november doesn't happen.