they say it
like october is a place.
like you can smell its breeze and run through its grass, dry and dead though it may be.
welcome to october: population 2,015
the diner on the corner serves pumpkin pie, halloween candy, and apple cider.
October: Home of the largest Pumpkin Patch
orangish, browning leaves blanket the ground year-round
getting soggy with each damp night that sometimes turn into foggy mornings
that turn into sunshiny days that make you squint against the bright orange leaves
and the windowpanes are almost, almost frosted but not quite.
when october is a place you inhale its air and you become another person:
one who walks down the sidewalk slower than normal
stepping on crunchy leaves and burying your nose in your scarf.
and you think:
I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. -L.M.Montgomery
and you think that maybe october isn't a place - a physical place
as much as it is a mindset.
slow down. take those long last breaths before the icy pain of winter.
appreciate the dying beauty of the world around you.
october isn't a place but a time.
not even a season.
its just a paused moment between hot and cold
life and death
a bench to sit and watch leaves fall.
autumn, from autumnus - cold, to cool off, or enriched, enlarged, ample.
the cold grows, from autumn.
the winter springs from autumns death,
the spring from winter's demise.
the favorite thing to do in the little town of october
is watch life go round and round.
i'll give you a run-down of my actual favorite things to do in october. basically, play in leaves and take pretty pictures and dress in boots and scarves and flannel and have bonfires and smell the air and drink hot hazelnut breves. and write poetry. :D
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