Dreary Day Even For A Monday

October is finally showing its true colours. It’s damp and getting cold in a way that will make wearing flip flops every day a big challenging.

I love FALL! I love the change of season-the colours of orange and red and everything in-between, just there waiting for me to look at. It’s a special time that not all climates see and it’s my favourite season even though it’s so short and what comes after leaves little promise for me.

The explosion of colours on the trees will suddenly disappear. The leaves will just drop, falling to their seasonal death, leaving an empty corpse of naked tree branches that let you see right through them to the next naked tree again and again.

There is no cozy comfort in this, for me anyways. It’s like a friend once realized, after moving here from a tropical climate. She noticed things were dying in the fall and mentioned it to her husband and he nodded in agreement, not saying a word. And so she said it, “It’s like starting all over again every year.”

She’s right of course, when it comes to trees and plants and the like. But some “things” that die don’t get to start over every spring.

“I would never wrap that rock in paper. Instead someone would place it in the box that held his lifeless body- buried on his birthday, three days after that fateful night of awful.” Lola Speaks