When I looked outside my bedroom window today, the melancholy that always blankets my soul during early autumn had subsided. The foliage on the oak tree had turned a fiery orange almost overnight. It feels downright wintry, too, and unexpectedly so, when just a week ago it was still in the 80’s.
I have no complaints about the passage of time. Not at this particular moment, anyway. Watching the seasons change is like living in a dream. Out of focus, but perfect nonetheless. Flaws – if there are any – are well camouflaged within the blur.
Those warm colors dispel it – whatever that “it” is – as I build the first fire to welcome winter and the cold months ahead.
Happiness is fleeting, but contentment lingers when wrapped in the comfort of the familiar.