when November arrives after September

 "It feels as if we skipped September and now it is already November," a colleague remarked in the morning, looking out of the cafeteria window.

I know what she meant. Usually summer extends to September with light and warmth, and only in the end of September the rains arrive and the leaves start changing colour. This year we had a glorious summer, and suddenly in the end of August the temperature dropped significantly, the rain kept pouring for days, and people dug their gloves and hats and warm jackets out of their closets already in mid-September. 

At the start of the September the yellows, oranges and browns started to replace the green scenery. Way earlier than expected. The last days of September looked what they usually look in the end of October. Last week I had moments of admiring the lindens arching over the sidewalk with yellow leaves  dancing in the morning sun creating a golden glow all around, the maples having ample of orange leaves to decorate themselves and gift to the ground for shuffling through the piles, and the horse chestnuts joyfully plopping shiny smooth conkers to the street for people to pick into their palm or collect into heir pockets. The wind playfully invited the leaves along, "One, two, three, yay, let's jump," and the first brave ones twirled and whirled through the air creating a glorious performance. 

On my morning walks I usually met various people, some adults hurrying to work, some adults clearly too tired and almost sleep walking, schoolchildren with large backpacks standing in a bus stop, fit and determined joggers running past everyone, and the dog walkers letting their dogs sniff and explore the surroundings. I kind of expected every morning to see a golden retriever lead its owner, a small spaniel carrying a tree branch in his mouth, two huskies trying to pull their owner in two different directions. I have also seen a hare, almost the size of a kangaroo, hopping across a street, and squirrels climbing up and down the trees and running along fences. The colourful trees, the morning sun, the living creatures have made my morning step and heart light, preparing me well for the days ahead.  

This morning I arrived in the city a bit earlier than usual. When I went for my morning walk, the darkness and the quiet created a feeling of being left alone on this planet. The dog walkers, schoolchildren and joggers were nowhere to be seen. No animals around, not even sparrows chirping in the bushes. The wind pushed me form the back, ran ahead, angrily pulled the leaves from the trees. Many trees were bare already, most leaves had surrendered and fallen, only with few stubbornly holding on, pretending they could avoid the inevitable. Kind of like me, not quite ready yet for the season of darkness and cold. Part of me wanted to weep, part of me knew I would have to keep looking for the light and colour, even if in photos, to thrive not merely survive the November that arrived at the start of October.  It feels as if the fall ran through Estonia, "Here, enjoy the leaves. That's enough. Done, Bye!"

This morning was too dark to take any photos, so here are some from my morning walks earlier this month: