As December begins, so truly does a new year. Even though plenty of remnants hang on in the land around me – a few pear, beech and lilac leaves, some forsythia and Japanese honeysuckle – there is not enough to keep me looking for the past in this present, not enough to keep me from plotting the beginning of another cycle.

Notebook

THE ASTRONOMICAL OUTLOOK
IN THE THIRD WEEK OF LATE FALL
The Sandhill Crane Migration Moon enters its second quarter on November 24 at 4:39 p.m., and it continues to wax throughout the week, becoming full on December 2 at 2:30 a.m.

The rising of Orion after 9:00 p.m. continues to be the most dramatic event of the late autumn evening. The seven sisters, the Pleiades, and the constellation Taurus, precede it.

The day’s length loses another ten minutes this week. By the end of November, the day is just 15 minutes shy of its shortest span, and sunset is within two minutes of its earliest setting time of the year. On the 30th, the sun’s declination reaches 21 degrees 37 minutes, just a little less than 90 percent of the way to winter solstice.

DECEMBER WEATHER
As November draws to a close, normal lows drop well into the 20s almost everywhere in the lower Midwest, except for counties along the Kentucky border – where they remain near 30 degrees. Normal highs are typically in the middle 40s now, except, of course, along the Ohio River where they are still close to 50.

Weather history suggests that cold waves usually reach this region on or about December 2, 8, 15, 20, 25 and 29. Precipitation usually occurs prior to the passage of each major front. Severe weather is most likely to occur during the following periods: December 1-3, 24-26, and December 31-January 1. It is probable that full moons on December 2 and 31 will bring stronger-than-average storms to the United States.

THE ALMANACK DAYBOOK
FOR THE WEEK SANDHILL CRANES FLY OVER
November 23: Most of the lilac and forsythia leaves are down. Only the Japanese honeysuckle and the bamboo leaves remain green. Hydrangea flowers are pale and brittle.
November 24: Remnants of garden hostas have dissolved into the mulch. Artichoke leaves are twisted and stiff. Some Osage fruit is developing blackish patches, a sign of the approach of December. Throughout the weeks ahead, the landscape becomes browner as fallen foliage settles and comes apart.
November 25: Compensating for the lack of blooming flowers and green leaves are the pale champagnes of the field grass and goldenrod, the russets of the Japanese knotweed, the red honeysuckle berries and red rose hips, the white sycamore bark, and the purple raspberry stalks.
November 26: In the woods, Second Spring, the resurgence of the undergrowth, is halted by November's most bitter weather.
    As the weather becomes more challenging, separate your thinnest pregnant ewes now and give them a little extra attention in order to improve their condition and reduce risk of abortion. And remember that whatever precautions you take with your livestock should be taken with your pets and family!
November 27: The most stubborn leaves fall. The heads of thimble plants explode in the winds. Bearded thistles are sagging, angelica breaking apart, asters coming undone. Leafcup is blackened by the cold. Dock, garlic mustard and dame’s rocket are limp. Seed wings still hang from the box elders.
November 28: Sandhill cranes fly over the region between now and the first week of December. Listen for their shill cries high above you.
November 29: From this point forward, growth, even among the winter plants like purple deadnettle, ground ivy, dock and dandelions, is almost imperceptible, and the cold does away with all their November progress.
November 30: The sun’s declination reaches 21 degrees 37 minutes today, just a little less than 90 percent of the way to winter equinox. Bittersweet berries have already announced this milestone: they have emerged all the way from their hulls. In addition, the winterberries are all pushing out. J

JOURNAL

After a warm November, in soft rain, the grass outside my door is lush and bright, the last Osage leaves golden above the shed. Along the west wall of the house, a few Shasta daisies are still in bloom. Wild onions are getting lanky, motherwort is bushy, Queen Anne’s lace has grown back two-feet tall.

In the garden, fresh rosemary, sage, parsley, thyme, oregano, and fat chard are still good for picking. Strawberry leaves are turning red and orange. Dry pumpkin-brown heads of marigold quiver in the wind. By the pond, lamb’s ear is soft and velvety gray; blush covers the wild geraniums. By the front door, lamium purpureum, dead nettle is full of new growth and purple flowers. Dusky forsythia still blocks the street from view, and pink azalea leaves forecast their spring blossoms.

New chickweed grows under the rhododendrons, along with new clover, new dandelions. Ground ivy is deep summer green. Under the apple tree, one wild strawberry flowers. To one side of the woodpile, very late blue forget-me-nots keep their petals.  Along the north hedge, orange euonymus berries push out from their white pods, and late honeysuckle berries hold on. Bright sweet William leaves, tawny leaves of the goosefoot, feathery achillea, and comfrey, dock, and garlic mustard are all vigorous. Two deep yellow roses are surrounded by mint. Three pale violet sweet rocket flowers nestle against the old stone wall.