rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Gray

Another gray day, followed by a night of dim, shrouded moonlight. It looks as though there might be fog. I enjoy a foggy night, especially when the moon is full, and the landscape is washed with mysterious light, the bony branches of autumnal trees looming from the gray, like palimpsests of ancient tales written in some lost script, emerging on a gray page. The chill air grows dank and rich with scents of decaying leaves and wet wood and damp earth, and I breathe the heaviness until it feels as though I am standing amid the wispy exhalations of a throng of ghosts.
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