Glorious

We have had a week of GLORIOUS weather in the UK.

Glorious. adj. having a striking beauty or splendour.

I wish you could see it. See the sun bring out the greens of late summer, see how it coaxes the fragrances from the late September flowers, see how it shines on gentle webs, creating a kaleidoscope of colours that shift up gossamer threads as the sturdy little arachnid home sways stubbornly in the wind. I wish you could smell the earth, it’s like the spring of winter. Everything is so fresh, idyllic. Things have bloomed past their prime, and they nod in the breeze with unwitting splendour.

And the sun is warm, caressing, in the cool, sometimes cold, breeze.

This is my favourite season, just before the trees deck themselves in the sunset colours for the evening of summer, just before the bare branches begin to peer over the haze of icy morning fog. The evenings are still lasting, the shadows still long at 6pm, the golden sunshine can still be called a late summer sun.

Love Letters #10

Dear Amelia,

One day, when I return, there will be summer and rain at the same time. There will be a rainbow over our apple tree, and we will watch the seasons merge into each other, the apples growing larger and sweeter. One day, there will be a future for us.  After the rot of the city has lifted. After the destruction has become a faint memory, we will live again. Life will sprout through the cracked crevices of what once was our solid foundation. It has been shattered, but we haven’t, dearest. We haven’t.

Yours truly,

Dean

On Pines

What I really like about winter is the fact that if you live in a pine studded estate, you do not lack for lush greenery. There is something so pleasing, so soothing, about the dark green splash against silvery white, against dull brown and grey, swaying with mighty force through torrents of winter wind. Pines are the trees of winter. They master the season, like the fiery cascade of death masters autumn.

I’m gonna really miss this ole place.

Shift

As the seasons change, my life grunts a little and turns over, her eyelids fluttering. She senses a force awakening, and it is stopping her from carrying on in the same old position. Soon she will have to shift to accommodate new matters.

Today I walked into the chemist and bought something that I have never bought before. I wasn’t anxious about buying said thing, but my heart was palpitating at the thought of the nuances behind such an object.

The lady wrapped it in a paper bag and then put the paper bag into a plastic one.

“Oh, there’s no need, really,” I began, reaching for the bag, but she patted my hand and smiled at me.

“It’s absolutely no problem, darlin’. Give you more privacy that way.”

I was retching when I was in the bathroom. Not because it smelled bad or anything, but because I was frightened. I was terrified. I was completely out of my wits.

I was too scared to look.

That’s it.

My life, as I know it, is over. No more travelling, no more being chill, no more going wherever the whim takes us.

I’m scared because I think I am not ready yet. I think that there is loads more that I need to do. But sometimes in life, no matter how pre-cautious you are, the thing that you planned becomes unplanned.

I picked up the cheap plastic stick.

Two pale pink lines.

A positive.

*deep, shaky, teary breath*

Here’s a Thought

Sometimes things are so beautiful that I want to eat them or keep them forever by swallowing them whole through my brain, or turn into them so I can always be around their beauty.

I can never get enough!