Early October, noting the changes.

Taking note of how differently the sun sets as it drifts further away every night. Wishing for the whole world to be enclosed in a bank of snow, just for a while, just to get it out of my face, if just a little.
Imagining a white tent, lit brightly from within, overlooking a city that, for once, is peaceful. Warmth eminates from the glow. Taking a photograph, it only looks more magical. Wanting to hear Ginsburg's "Howl"again, to remember what it once felt like.
How wide off the mark am I?
October is the first month denoting a tangable shift in tone. Scenery drops to a lower frequency; you can hear it in the wind. A red leaf is blown against my side, and I savour the touch; I gently drop it into the current. Watching it go: up up. I love how life moves like this.
Sizing it up. Seeing the white glow at the top of the hill that isn't there, that overlooks a city that marks its territory in my imagination.
The sun sets in a way it never has before. I'm getting tired of surprises.