Throughly Chilled

This morning I rolled out of bed, only slightly achy, only sightly reluctantly, with a feeling not yet had for the season: my warm bed versus the outside world. The throughly chilled air that exists just outside of the realm of my only awareness, my flannel contentment.

A beautiful, simple day translated into a hope, a wonderment. As I discover and uncover, where I fit into this world. This article, silly and spot on, was surprisingly humbling. A window in which to view the shaping of the reality to come:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/wait-but-why/generation-y-unhappy_b_3930620.html

With a settled mind, and cold toes I realize today: the first day of fall. The willow that lies out my window is turning faintly yellow, as I pull on a patagonia. Theres a deep inspiration that comes with the cold, to get more of that cool, crisp air. To breathe deeper, and come more inward. To adventure into a world with a layer of autumn, so beautiful and still. To plan, and intellectualize in the humblest of ways. To wear flannels, and drink warm things, with cinnamon, and fire places, and thoughts. Today, theres and unopened invitation, to come home. Home to the jewel that lies within.

I'm ready for the season of long naps and darker nights. With community potlucks, and larger sangas. With copious amounts of snow, and a fresh rain that resonated deep. I'm ready to ramble my reality. I'm ready for winter.
I'm ready for winter.
I'm ready for winter.
I'm ready for winter.
I'm ready for winter.