(a more fleshed out version of this)
i was outside earlier, and i could smell winter.
not autumn. full blown, icy, frosty, foreboding winter.
just that fast.
a week or so ago, i could barely stand to wear long sleeves, now i'm chilled to the bone. i can almost see snow on the horizon.
my native american ancestors are stirring--always the second half of the fall sensitivities. it makes sense. there's the day of the dead, thanksgiving...
something about the colors of autumn forces them to make their presence known.
the strange thing is that i'm almost looking forward to the cold and the dark and the disappearance of the sun.
i can't remember a time when i've wanted that, not even for the sake of christmas. it's difficult for me to be cold. i don't warm up easily; it takes a multitude of hot liquids, blankets, and layers and layers of clothing.
but i think winter justifies my current obsession with quiet, peace and solitude.
i've been nesting with no promise of a baby--at least no physical one.
hopefully this means true rebirth in spring...