A November Walk Through Michigan

I never thought I’d miss November in Michigan.

Maybe I’ve been in Florida too long to recall the gloomy skies and cold days, but what I remember is crisp air, a mixture of clouds and sky, dusting of snow, frozen fields.

November is an in-between month in Michigan. Still considered autumn, it’s more like early winter. Snow arrives, even if it doesn’t mound high enough for snowball fights. Frost freezes the ground. Breath is visible. Heavier jackets and gloves appear.

Mom bought me a soft wool hat-scarf that kept me warm. My down jacket and heavy gloves were an invitation to walk the trails of the Troy nature center or along the Clinton River.

I don’t miss scraping car windows or driving to work in the morning chill, but wish I could savor crunchy fields with a dusting of snow. Hear the crackling weeds in the wind. Gaze at bare trees across the field.

The sun is lower in the sky. We’ve lost an hour of daylight. Temperatures continue to drop, and winter moves into the upper half of Michigan. From falling leaves at Halloween to early snows before Thanksgiving, November ties together two seasons.

Warm air holds moisture, but in Michigan November, the lake effect creates cold air that blows across the Great Lakes. That creates rain early in the month and snow later. North of Manistee and West Branch, snowfall of 5-10 inches is common. In the Heights, several inches could come and go at any time.

Cold. Gray skies. Anyone suffering with seasonal depression feels the gloom of November, but there’s another aspect.

Fresh, cold air. Standing at the edge of a snow-dusted field, hearing the rattle of ironweed and nettles in the wind. Geese crossing the sky. Silent ponds, with fish and frogs slowed by the cold into a semi-hibernation state, or buried in crevices and logs. Squirrels curled together in nests. Walks along roads with fields and frozen lawns, bare trees, snow clouds along the horizon, occasional crow calls.

Hunters and children celebrate a different November. Parents begin preparations for Thanksgiving meals and Christmas shopping. Trading iced tea for hot cocoa, savoring afternoon coffee.

Apple picking and cider melt into visits to Frankenmuth—Christmas at Bronner’s, dinner at Zehnder’s or Bavarian Inn, strolling through the bright, decorated shops.

Our family also discovered Canterbury Village in Lake Orion, originally the 3,000-acre farm of William Edmund Scripps who bought the property in 1916. During the Great Depression, farmhands, servants, and employees lived on the property with the family. A one-room schoolhouse was built for the children, and the original farmhouses and buildings make up shops and a view into history.

We visited in the summertime to savor ice cream cones, but our favorite trips were in the winter in anticipation of Christmas with dinner and window-shopping.

Michigan covers 56,000 square miles—a wonderland of lakes and ponds, cities, wilderness, seasonal activities, and proud Michiganders.

I cherish those memories this November day. Browsing Bronner’s holiday delights, sharing chicken dinners at one of the famous restaurants, savoring snowy woods and scenic drives.

I’ll wrap Mom’s scarf around my neck, pull on my gloves, and zip my down jacket for a walk along a Michigan field.

At least, in my memories.

After all, once a Michigander…