The leaves have all fallen from the trees.
Those that are left cling desperately to the branches, unwilling to let go, to fly for a brief time in the breeze before hitting the ground, only to be buried by ice and snow come January.
The wind is so cold. I've started wearing jeans and sweaters and my bulky winter coat.
There's Christmas stuff everywhere. Santas and snowflakes and elves and "get 25% off on our Christmas sale!" Barely any Hanukkah stuff, forget Kwanza.
Elementary-school kids practice songs for their holiday concert. Middle-school kids look forward to their Christmas- ahem, holiday- break. 8th graders like me are overwhelmed by all the homework teachers think they can cram in between Thanksgiving break and winter break.
It's dark when I get to the bus stop in the morning. Christmas lights sparkle on people's lawns, in their windows, in their eyes.
Why don't I feel any cheer?
Maybe because I'm a leaf, clinging to my branch, unwilling to get covered by the snow that I know is coming. The wind blows me back and forth, trying to rip me away into the unknown.
All the trees are bare.