November Rain

I like November, partly because it is my month.
In some parts of the world, November is when the leaves turn red and crisp, then eventually fall and reveal the naked branches.

But in LA, you can hardly notice the changes except that the wind blows a little chilly. You don't feel the heat on the back of your neck when you go out for lunch at noon. You look up because you notice the absence of the attack from the sun. And indeed, the sun looks a little further away in the sky. You also notice the sky is so perfectly dotted with bright soft clouds it looks like it is taken directly out of a kid' drawing book, the bluest sky with the purest clouds.

"Look! Clouds" You yell because clouds are rare to find. Plus, clouds always have been a good reason to be excited.

You take a deep breath in. You realize the air is cool and moist. You know the air is familiar. You remember autumn in Dalian. You remember the streets lay out with red bricks, lined with unknown trees. You remember walking on these streets covered with dried, curled up leaves, talking with friends, trying to step on every single leaves, and wishing to grow up, faster. Your eyes become a little moist now. November air always makes your eyes a little moist.

"Winter is here now!" You declare as you sniff your nose. Only you are talking to the wrong people. They are from the east coast. They look at you with a sneer, thinking how spoiled you are by the good weather in LA.
"This is more like late summer where I came from.” They say.

"You look so Chinese today." They say referring to the Jade bangle from your grandmother you are wearing.
"Yeah" You reply touching the bangle, rotating it. You wear it whenever you miss your grandmother.


How many songs are dedicated to November?

When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain