Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

December 2 – 1928

 Already it is definitely December.
Yesterday Morning it was still November – fine cold misty rain out the southwest void of gray sky, heavy oppressive fall over the earth, a feeling of something terrible about to happen – but by evening as the day wore on, with little wind a penetrating cold developed till by dark snow flurries were falling and the gnawing chill of black December filled the air.
I regret the passing of November. November is one of the great seasons of the year. A few nights ago Frank & I were talking seasons out in front of the house, and I remarked that my three favorite months were March, August & November. As it happened they were his. Later I tried to couple other months together in like manner that both the same relation to their seasons as these three months. I should have four groups of three each, but it did not work out so. One trio I managed December June & October – January & July went together, leaving February, April, May & September as singles.