" On an afternoon in October,
or the beginning of November,
a fresh watery afternoon,
when turf & paths were strewn rustling
with moist, withered leaves,
and the cold, blue sky was half hidden from the west,
and boding abundant rain."
{Wuthering Heights}
a wild longing to breathe this November wind...
a day of amber sunlight,
with a shiver of coming winter filling the air.
a wind sends leaves bobbing and swirling,
the smell of woodsmoke lingers in the air.
there is a chill to the house,
and sweaters all around.
yearning to sit warm and snug fireside,
all nestled cozy in settled contentment.