Tag Archives: Autumn

my favorite things

it’s the perfect day: cool, rainy, autumnally delicious. i am perfectly and utterly, incandescently happy.

it’s been a productive, but relaxing day for me. earlier this morning, i went to the library and did some grocery shopping (including Trader Joe’s!), and now, i just got back from a brisk walk with the dogs. it was wonderful to be out in the fresh, wild november air. this is the time of year that i live for. spring, summer, and blustery winter days are nice, but i am alive in the Fall.

yesterday my co-workers and i broke out into some random singing of “The Sound of Music”, and because i’ve had “My Favorite Things” going through my head now for the past 24 hours, i thought i’d list some of my favorite things, inspired by this lovely overcast day:

  • leaves: falling, fallen, wet, crunchy, in piles, of blazing colors, running through
  • birds on telephone wires
  • Poppy Seed Chicken with whole wheat noodles (i’m making it for dinner!)
  • painting on canvas (my project for tonight- a christmas present for my sister)
  • postcards from family in far-off places
  • hot mulled cider
  • Over the Rhine
  • Bigelow green tea (i’ve had a lot of green tea, but this is the best)
  • wagging tails
  • vacuum cleaners
  • snuggling under my cozy fleece blanket (sewn by my dear mama)

and without further ado, i must not spend another minute of this perfect day on the computer.

have a blessed evening dear friends.

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the tale of Autumn

young Autumn whispers to me her solemn stories in misted sunrises, in swirling leaf-flakes, and in the crackly smell of wood-smoke.  her eyelids fall in early evening and in her yawn, the orangey glow of a sunset, a flickering flame of innocence, lingers in the joy of the moment. she does not know the harsh chill soon to come, she only knows that she is tired and asks me to tuck her in. soon frost will glaze grass, and trees will shiver naked in december snows. but for now, Autumn snuggles and sighs in the warmth of ember-colored trees and steaming tarty cider and in the gentle beams of the doe-eyed moon. she remembers the blissful laughter of the children who played with her, and in dreamy awe, the young lovers strolling down gold, leaf-paved streets, their hands melted together. and with her heart breaking, she closes her eyes and wishes she were human so that she could stay.

and i wish she could, too.

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