This made me happy, but that may be because I'm just about ready gor Autumn.
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Evening alters sense and image.
Georg Trakl, Poems and Prose: The Autumn of the Lonely; from 'Autumn Soul' (second version), tr. Alexander Stillmark
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The mornings are dark and foggy.
My mood is lightening up.
Change of season is apparent now.
My autumn soul feels at home again.
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She had an autumn soul, all bundled up with stories of war, flying on black wings of Crows and galloping on wild hooves of dark stallions.
Her mind is filled with leaves and spices, true crime and cookies, a cup of tea and ghoulish jack-o-lanterns.
She loves the crisp clutter and naked branches of trees, the sweet release from the heat, the cozy feel of sweaters.
She has an autumn soul, all orange and black and crawling mist.
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I'm just soaking in all the happiness of home when the windows have been open, good smells fill the house, my husband is done for the day, and we're about to nestle up on the couch in the freshly clean house for some dedicated downtime. Saturdays, especially October Saturdays, are kinda my favorite.
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Autumn is usually when I start feeling restlessness every year regardless, but it seems like this year is worse than ever. All I can think of is the rustling of the leaves, the wind dancing while it kisses your cheeks with air that's a bit cooler than you expected, the smell of apples and pumpkins and the beginnings of decay as the world prepares to sleep.
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“September days have the warmth of summer in their briefer hours, but in their lengthening evenings a prophetic breath of autumn.”
― Rowland E. Robinson
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