Dull, Damp and Dreary Day

Today starts wet and miserable. Over-cast, and for this early hour of the day, 8.45, it seems incredibly dark. I'm put in mind a poem I remember from school called "November", by Thomas Hood, which describes very well such a day.  Must say quite a lot about my education if I can recall such a poem. Strange how such things stick in your memory. I don't think it had a great deal to do with the teaching, but I suppose poems create strong emotions, create pictures in your head. I can't say I have particularly happy memories of Rushmoor School, quite the opposite. Here it is:




November

NO sun--no moon!

No morn--no noon!

No dawn--no dusk--no proper time of day--

No sky--no earthly view--

No distance looking blue--

No road--no street--no "t'other side this way"--

No end to any Row--

No indications where the Crescents go--

No top to any steeple--

No recognitions of familiar people--

No courtesies for showing 'em--

No knowing 'em!

No traveling at all--no locomotion--

No inkling of the way--no notion--

"No go" by land or ocean--

No mail--no post--

No news from any foreign coast--

No Park, no Ring, no afternoon gentility--

No company--no nobility--

No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,

No comfortable feel in any member--

No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,

No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds--

November!




Thomas Hood