November

The golden leaves that were the glory of October now lie dead and brown on the frosty ground, and bare black branches etch their silouettes against the bleak gray sky. In contrast to the coldness outside, homes are warm inside with fireglow, and the nights that begin so early now twinkle with candlelight.
As a light snow, perhaps the first of winter, dusts the ground and drives the gardener indoors, there are new and different chores to be done. At this time of year the epiphytic cactus from the jungles of Mexico and Central America , popularly known as the Christmas cactus, has set buds and now requires feeding and extra watering if it is to be in full bloom at Yuletide. Its fuchsia or pink blossoms will stand in bright contrast to another Mexican import, the poinsetta, which also needs special attention at this time of year to be in bloom for the holidays.
November mornings dawn gray and frosted, and deer, brown now in their winter coats, keep to the edge of the frosted meadow, or race across it not daring to linger. One such morning though, dawns with a feeling like no other in the month. As families come together from all parts of the country like some ancient gathering of the clans, as ovens bulge with turkeys and pumpkin pies, we all prepare to celebrate a national holiday that is of ancient Pagan orgin and has roots in England.
As we gather around the dinner table with family and friends and bow our heads in silent prayer, it is appropriate that we recall the Pagan origins of this traditional American holiday brought to these shores by the Pilgrims, and thank the Gods.

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