rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Autumnal

Damp hangs about, too thin to be fog but thick enough to catch the moon's light and make the air slightly luminous. Night smells of decaying leaves and growing grass, of pine and cold earth. The silence is an absence of insects. The cicadas are all dead, and any surviving crickets are too chilly to chirp. The air is still, too, but a leaf or two will fall now and then, like a whisper in a quiet room.

When the waxing gibbous moon sets, more stars will appear, faintly blurred by the haze. In a few days there will be rain, and the nights will be cold enough that snow could fall. Fall might give way to winter even before the trees are bare. Tonight's damp feels like the breath of lurking December.
Subscribe

  • Reset Twenty-Two, Day One

    Despite a nap that lasted from sometime shortly after noon (I can't recall exactly when) until after five o'clock in the evening, I find I can barely…

  • Day Out

    Tuesday I was not at my best, but I still went out and made a bank deposit (ATM) and shopped in a couple of stores. My niece had picked up a few…

  • Reset Twenty-One, Day Thirty-One

    Monday didn't get particularly smoky here, but by afternoon we could see the enormous pyrocumulus clouds hanging over the mountains. Reports say the…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    switch
    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
    Help
  • 4 comments