October Thoughts

"October Tree," for sale in my Zazzle shop

Yesterday I saw my first junco of the year. It flew up from my neighbors yard, a small gray songbird with a flick of white in its tail. They've migrated down from Canada for the winter— this is the "south" they fly to, gracing the honeysuckle bushes and maple trees with their fluffy bodies, dark-backed and white-breasted. 

Winter is coming.

I did a photo shoot for my Christmas job, and when I sang "We Wish You a Merry Christmas," my first thought was a very serious, "Man, how many years has it been since we had Christmas?!" and it took me a full moment to remember that December 2019 was less than a year ago.

Winter is coming.

Cold thunderstorms rolled through, and I curled up in my fuzzy bathrobe and spent too much time on the Internet, but part of me longed for walks in the wet leaves in a romantic trenchcoat while my breath smokes in the cold… but without actually having to get up and do it.

I drink homemade chicken broth and crave kale salad and gravy. I want to curl up and hibernate and not do anything much, and eat chocolate and read a book and light a candle and sink into the darkness of the year, unable to look beyond, unable to think of much. 

Today I walked through my neighborhood in a fine rain. The leaf colors are subtle this year, washed clean by the mist. I listened to an instrumental album and did dishes, and walked to the neighbor's house to pick up apples— bright red, straight from an alphabet book— off the ground. I breathed the cold air and listened to a mockingbird at the top of the tree singing his repertoire.

The woodchucks will be hibernating soon. The tomatoes are almost spent.

Winter is coming.

~~~