Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Forty degrees of separation between me and home

I'm wearing a grey sweater, with a long-sleeved t-shirt underneath. Black corduroy pants and knee socks. A scarf is wrapped around my neck.

The sky is dark with low grey clouds. A chilly breeze swirls around my face and a light cold rain falls on my cheeks. I shiver and bury my hands into my pockets.

The heat is on in my room.

Outside my window, several Serbian Spruce trees of dark green stand firm, and a tree I can't identify glows with leaves of dancing bright orange.

Downstairs a fire burns in the fireplace.

I'm on the edge of Fall and it feels like Winter. I'm in a suburb north of Chicago, where I've found a little bit of seasonal heaven. A little bit of peace, a little bit of quiet.

And a whole lot of me liking it.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ah, I miss the North Shore. The colors will be changing soon, if they haven't already. There are two glorious weeks of gold and red and yellow that always remind me of Currier and Ives.

Bring some cold back with you, okay?

Linda@VS said...

I can almost smell the fire. Inhale as much as you can of that cool air and take a little home with you. Enjoy your trip.

Anonymous said...

let that atmosphere saturate your bones, your soul.

Seython said...

Nice blog, seems worth the time reading