there are times when we search far
and discover what we needed was in fact—
near
Tag Archives: autumn
Autumn
This year we are having a particularly beautiful autumn. When I walk with Juliet, the red maple leaves blanket the roads and the grass and the paths we pass. Rain makes the streets slippery—we skate in a stop and start motion; soft red velvety leaves stick to my boots.
The nights are damp and dark with a fine mist rising, hovering at eye level. When I take Jules out at midnight, I note the crickets in the otherwise still silence of that hour. I wonder, have I ever noticed that crickets sound into the month of November? Have I ever inhaled the damp night deeply into my lungs before this year?
Then there are the mornings. The early twilight of dawn, drenched in thick fog welcomes me with open arms while my eyes are still tired with sleep. Has it been like this always? I don’t know. It feels, so much sharper this year. I feel the cold in my bones and my senses on high alert. I want to memorize each tree, each outline. The falling leaves form an impression on the road and I stare at the contour, tracing it with my eyes, touching it with my cold hand.
The moments are fleeting, quick and also slow, slick, thick with anticipation and the promise of the coming winter. A fluttering of huge wild wings escape into the fog and disappear behind dark branches; perhaps to return again during the day when it clears, or perhaps to become a memory floating softly like the red leaves onto the ground—one of many, lost under the impending first snows.
Persephone
Persephone, you have once again descended—
gleaming golden trails welcome you into the darkness
Words
words can be so heavy
The Cold
the cold clung to everything,
except our beating hearts
Past Futures
when she looked away, it was through a landscape of past futures
Wordless: 5
Wordless: 2
Some time
taking some time away…
see you in a week or so–
be safe and happy
Seasons
seeing everything traced in frost, gives one the courage to welcome the changing seasons