I’m sitting by my window, a cup of tea in hand. I hear a dog barking outside.
There’s a crispness in the air.
Will the air whisper its thoughts to me?
Autumn is here.
Red leaves. Brown leaves.
Squash at the farmer’s market.
Autumn is here.
Candles lit, scented and not.
Plenty of blankets and pillows thrown about, making home feel cozy.
Thick socks on my feet.
Autumn is here.
Bushes throbbing with the lush greens of fall.
Autumn is here.
Far away thoughts. Far away memories of times gone by.
This is my season.
Autumn is here.
Sweaters. Boots. Long walks in contemplation.
This is my season. This is my mood.
Autumn is here.
WhiteHausRules 