Captain´s Log

There is something inevitable about October after the first storm.

Swirling gravity settles on manifold leaves blotching the grounds, meadows, lawns, walk- and driveways and roads in a spectre from yellow to dark reds, slowly decaying in shades of brown, this earth´s reminder of fall inevitably. Silhouettes of skeleton trees on mountain ridges remain as monuments of hope against the clear evening light, flickering at last and fading away into the darkness of another night. Prolonged, the spans of yearning for a glimmer drift us towards homely lit fireplaces. We brave another storm, not having tasted the harshness of winter on our tongues. Perhaps, perchance, peradventure we dream ourselves through impending frost.

Copyright 2013 by Andrea Connolly, 20^th October 2013