Those Bleak November Skies

November gives me the blahs – continuously overcast skies, the bareness of trees and a foreboding chill that makes me zip up my jacket in anticipation of winter.

Today I treat myself to a few hours in a downtown Montreal greenhouse. Surrounded by a sea of flowers, from furry mums to daisies (bunches of white, purple or violet), I gratefully breathe in the humid air. I listen to the gurgle of water as it flows into two small ponds and watch the carp wind their way beneath the lilies floating on the surface.

It has been a year of losses for me – first my mother’s passing, then the departure of a close friend and I need this visual feast to remind me what I truly love in this world. The colours, the textures and the scents in this tropical place fill my senses.

A woman comes in with her two little girls, who scamper around the room examining all the plants. I envy their excitement and spontaneity.

Will I ever feel joyful again? Like the seasons I expect my melancholy will pass. Experiencing loss is part of the human condition and it is normal to feel sad when important relationships end. I give myself permission to sit with my feelings. For a few moments happy memories flood my mind.

I dreamt of my mother and this friend last night (strange, to have them both in the same dream!). My friend was pulling me back from the edge of a deep man-made lake that suddenly appeared in the center of the city. Perhaps that was my subconscious warning me not to let emotion overwhelm me, especially at this time of year.

I again gaze at the graceful palms and flowers that grow here in such profusion. Life for them, and for me, must go on.