Monday, 1 November 2010
Of Embers and Novembers
The cold and dark have landed! Last night after walking out in the Halloween strangeness, we curled ourselves around the open fire, bellies full of roasted herbs and vegetables, like bears in our winter caves. Jack-o-lanterns leered out on the street from our window, and then there came an almost unearthly screaming and screeching from outside. We looked down to the street to see two bare-chested, blue-painted bodies go tearing down the street, howling their hardest and most frightening at all the windows they could reach. Happy Halloween! There was music and flickering firelight and the first long night of winter. The sun sets earlier than 4:30 in the afternoon now, and the wind blows incessantly.
The days though, have been like stained-glass representations of days. The honey light and the way the coloured leaves float 'just so' around wet, dark-coloured branches, the way they sweep through the streets like confetti tornadoes, resting in the corners of doorsteps along with little red berries. The bright, high feeling of a blue sky and cool air.
The forests are at that fine moment of the year where they become golden-domed cathedrals.
Colours hang about the air like bird songs that froze at the start of a frosty morning.
And perhaps everything will shine brighter in the days from now on, as the dark frame of nighttime stretches farther and darker across our clocks.
I am wondering about what winter will bring, wrapping myself in extra sweaters and piling on blankets, drawing people wrapped in even more layers than I, and turning old pumpkins into pies.