Metaphor

November arrives like a sledge hammer. Daylight Savings sweeps an immense darkness over the city, as you know it will every year; it doesn't hurt any less when it does. There's a bitter wind flying down Seventh Avenue, you wrap your jacket tighter but it sharpens your vision against your will.

But here's the thing: you don't have the option of summer in November. You don't have a million tropical days spread before you in an endless field of opportunity, each more delightful than the next. So if the autumn day is cold, with wind like ice on your skin and the night an ominous threat along the horizon, but the sun is shining, then you owe it to yourself to go out there and stand in it. Let the bright rays beam straight into your eyes, let them fill you to the brim with gratitude of the things you do have. You may have to stretch your limbs to reach the light.

But it sure beats whiling away your days in the dark.