And how fresh the air smells with this untamed sudden wind. Our bodies still hold fragments of the eterntity of the summer afternoons, where everything was in silence suspension. Now comes the freshness and it feels like we're pushed into human life again, slowly, softly, tenderly....
Hot cordials, teas and coffees; fire coloured dancing leaves; cosy blankets; pumpkins, quinces and chestnuts; fresh untamed winds; dramatic sunsets; scones, pancakes and apple pies; long walks through changing nature; knitted clothes; colourful yarns; soft melodies; watching movies curled up in the sofa; early starts; berets and wool hats; memories of unstarted notebooks; jams and marmelades; cold hands; crafting ideas; photographs; dried figs and dates; warm colours; endless skies. Here we are again.
Why
Out of the necessity to link past with present. Out of the necessity to emphatize that fine line that keeps my whole existence together, making me know that chronological order only exists while I want it to exist.
