I was just sitting in the afternoon, 3:45pm slanted sun. Wrapped in a big red fleece, mug in hand holding steaming apple cider with cinnamon. It was a pretty bloody nice setting. And of course, with all the cider (which I should point to those who are not American, is not an alcoholic beverage... no psychedelic Somerset cider in these parts).
Anyway. It was basically a moment when I looked up and realized that fall is here. I looked up at the line of trees way at the back of the grounds of Graymalkin Place. All turning this burnt shade. The palette is changing. The tone has changed pitch. It's softening and become more mature, and it all reminds me of time. Of life. Of the movement from birth, to youth, adulthood, middle age, old age, death. Fall is like a wise woman in her 50s. Calm, inward, moving to a deeper level.
Anyway. It was basically a moment when I looked up and realized that fall is here. I looked up at the line of trees way at the back of the grounds of Graymalkin Place. All turning this burnt shade. The palette is changing. The tone has changed pitch. It's softening and become more mature, and it all reminds me of time. Of life. Of the movement from birth, to youth, adulthood, middle age, old age, death. Fall is like a wise woman in her 50s. Calm, inward, moving to a deeper level.
