seasons.change

Spring is the season of my body. I want to stretch and move and shake off the cobwebs of the long winter. My blood becomes electric as my nose fills with the scent of warming air and new green vegetation. My eyes see the world as if for the first time. 

Summer is the season of my heart. My love of life deepens, my joys are celebrated, and my memories are made. The sun warms my skin and bones and blood. I smile at the easiness of life, and languish as if I have all the time in the world.

But Fall is the season of my soul. The sun is still shining, but the crisp air is undeniable. Every day is peaceful and quiet like a Sunday afternoon. The silence is audible, as if the whole hemisphere is settling in for a nap on this cold afternoon. I take a deep breath and lean into the cool embrace.

 The buzzing of summer excitement is over, and now is a time for renewal and rest, for nurturing and contemplation, for standing still and looking. This is the season that shifts my gaze inward, and as the green of the earth slowly starts to freeze; the lush landscapes of my spirit start to grow.

city.dawn.ing

The City looks like a jewel box, shrouded in a mystery only night can afford it.
Floating streams of sparkling jewels, red one way, and white the other. Jewels that twinkle and move, those that encrust entire buildings, and the sky in hues of sapphire, amethyst, and ruby. The sky lightens, and the lustre fades; and as the sparkling stops, the falsely embellished concrete is revealed. My wonderland fades away. The jewel box is closed.
My window always tells a magic story, but there will be magic only when I choose to see it.