I want skeletons in trees, woolen socks on my feet and cold rain showers.
I slip into daydreams of nights filled with the aroma of wood burning, and the flickering lights of will-o'-the-wisps leading the deads.
Of candles in windows and magic circles.
Of dark stories murmured at night, and salt on windowsills.
Bring on the cold weather, and the changing of the Wheel.
Bring on the Day of the Dead.
The Season of the Witch.
(written Fall 2009)
This year I will miss the apple picking season, and that makes me sad. Mom and I always go apple picking together. There is this wonderful orchard maintained by monks close to where I live. The apples are delicious and the trees are wonderful. Old wood ladders are dispersed in the lanes and all you can hear is the soft murmur of the other people around you, birds, the wind in the trees and, on occasion, the clear bells of the abbey. We take our time picking and choosing the apples, me more daring as I am not afraid of heights, mom pointing at the reddest fruits. We bite into the skin, a crunching sound coming to our ears and juice immediately filling our mouths. We slowly leave a bit relunctantly but full and satisfied, but not before buying some handmade apple jam, our bags full of apples, our hearts always clearer and more at peace than when we arrived.
Hopefully when I come back, while the apples will all have fallen, the cries of the wild geese going South will still ring clear in the air, announcing that I am finally home.
I will be back soon with a more substantial post. In the meantime, tell me, what are your plans for the Fall? (or the Spring, if you live Down Under :) ?)
I hope eveybody is well, and thank you for all your wonderful comments, they are so appreciated. You are all magical xxx