The – somewhat cheerless – summer has passed, the harvest has come in so far and we have already arrived in November of this strange and memorable year. Depending on how you look at it, November is the month of the dead or the month in which decisive things often happen on a political level or the month in which life in nature retreats into the earth and gradually comes to rest.

“My friend, the tree, is dead…” sang Alexandra in 1968. The old childhood friend fell in the early morning red.