The Journals of Jack Kerouac 1947-1954. Journal Entry, November 12, 1947. Powerful winds that crack the boughs of November!-and the bright calm sun, untouched by the furies of the earth, abandoning the earth to darkness, and wild forlorness, and night, as men shiver in their coats and hurry home. And then the lights of home glowing in those desolate deeps. There are the stars, though! High and sparkiling in a spiritual firmament. We will walk in windsweeps, gloating in the envelopment of ourselves, seeking the sudden grinning intelligence of humanity below these abysmal beauties. Now the roaring midnight fury and the creaking of our hinges and windows, now the winter, now the understanding of the earth and our being on it: this drama of enigmas and double-depths and sorrows and grave joys, these human things in the elemental vastness of the windblown world.
