brooding

this evening i realized: winter is coming.  the musing of fall, that portion of the late fall season has which turns to winter, has begun.  

i love the grey of a winter sky- love the way that greyness causes me to become more reflective.  i love the way that the pale, whitewashed blankness of this season becomes a canvas yielding a brilliant palette of its own.  the glorious blue-grey trunk of the beech tree, tightly holding its golden-orange leaves... the toasted-brown of the chesnut leaves against the mossy green hill... the rolling, murky charcoal clouds above a muted rose sunset.  i love the tree-skeletons, their beautiful silhouettes finally given a chance to be noticed.  

the chill is upon us- the one that drives you back to books long-forgotten in the glory of spring, summer and fall.  the wind that whistles and howls most fiercely is blowing.  tea is brewing, fires burning.  upon us are the cold, clear nights yielding twinkling vantages nearly to heaven.   the stillness of this quiet, settled-season is falling.

 

i intend to drink up & savor it all.