Autumn…the year’s last, loveliest smile.
William Cullen Bryant
October winds down, and change taps at the door.
I think about trying a new thing—which really isn’t a new thing as much as it is an old thing wearing a different outfit. I consider switching up routines. I contemplate throwing intention up in the air and watching where it lands.
I cry a few tears—they slip from my eyes like pearls from a broken string. Some seasons are like that. Intention gives way to simply getting through.
Day ends with the comfort of flannel pajamas and a quilt and the blessedness of dreamless sleep.
Day comes early, in the solitude of darkness.