:: a wild longing ::

" 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.