Who can you count on in November? You can't count on the sun anymore. Any you can't count on the snow, which comes and goes in its own rhythm. When you walk home in the dark late afternoon, passing by the orange lit windows of your little Estonian town, who can you count on?
My answers these nights seems to be the pines. It might be wicked and November, but they look the same all year round. They offer a sense of continuity in a land where June days go above and beyond the call of duty and November days as they always are, a dull brown prelude to Jõuluaeg.
Scattered among the wraith like deciduous garden trees of Tartu are the pines of the forest reaching upwards towards a light that on some days you aren't even sure exists. I have never had a favorite tree before, and the Estonians seem to revere the oak, but these days I like the pines.