“Even when November’s sun is low and Winter flaps his fleecy wings, Thy gold among his silvery snow a solace in the sadness brings. “ ~James Rigg

November has always be my nemesis.

You see.. my husband is a hunter. So this month has always been marked by weekends away, unexpected days off to spend, not by my side but in the uncomfortable coolness of a tree stand and plans interrupted on the news of a tag filled.

In the early stages, I was mildly supportive. After all, I didn’t understand the full ramifications of my acceptance. I thought it was a passing fancy that would wane as we grew and moved through our adult stages in life. I, of course, underestimated the draw of Scott’s passion.

I admit that I was churlish after I gave birth to Ryan. Every weekend…for a month????? I was like a puppy at the window waiting for Scott to get home in the afternoon. “Is it now? Is it now? Do you see Daddy? “ Uncontainable excitement at the the door. “ Yay, you’re home. Did you have a good day? Okay, here’s Ryan. I’m going to go upstairs and perhaps brush my hair or go to the bathroom …. by myself!”

To have each weekend allotted for fun free time combined with going each day to work seemed over the top.

But he loved it. As a child it was a passion he shared with his uncles, father and cousins. It was not a hunt based on trophies or the quest to prove to be the better opponent, they have such great respect for the gravity of life and the nourishment it brings. For them, It is time spent in solitude and moments to reflect in nature.

It is not something I wholly understand; the hunting and taking of life but the need to be alone in the beauty that this world can create, that I find enviable.

Time passed and I grew. I grew to see his passion. I grew to carve interests of my own.

I grew to see him teaching Ryan the love of the wild. To value the quietness, to practice patience and to respect the scarcity of life.

And he did.

I, now, can see November for all its glory. The love passed through the generations, the sharing of knowledge and the time spent between a father and a son.

I look at my husband’s face just a tad more lined and his eyes just a bit more sad. And I think, “It is but one more thing that life has taken away from you.”

Until I see the excitement in my youngest’s eyes. She is more like her father and brother than she knows. She has been waiting for this year and this moment to finally arrive so that she could join them on their expeditions.

Instead of Scott dwelling on what’s lost, he sees his passion come alive again through Julianna’s eyes.

“Every limit is a beginning as well as an ending.” ~George Eliot

There is a lesson to be learned and a gift we can hold tight to, if we find the courage to look.