Clear Autumn
I wrote this at some point during December last year. Here we are again, and the autumn is as beautiful, and it´s a year and then some together and I count my doll among my blessings.
Thanks to Mae of Tangled Web, I found out (or rather was told) the meaning of the name Kiyoaki. Clear autumn. And it's just amazing, now that we're having these days of clean skies and yellow leaves, not golden, but strikingly yellow, strikingly bright in colour, against very dark branches, and the pearlescent quality of light, and the sun in the afternoon, more beautiful than in any other moment of the year, because it falls slanting and has nothing to do with the harsh sun of summer. And the slow, agonizing rain of leaves -brown and golden this time, from the trees beneath my window. And still more leaves, a rich dark red. Every moment a moment of awe, and this sharp, bittersweet conscience of beauty, wondering how longer it will last still, how many times we'll get to see an autumn like this. One of my mates made a remark about the autumn light here in Madrid. He comes from abroad. Having living here all my life, I still can see it, how could I not see it.
I like to imagine that it is all because of Kiyoaki, because these are the first months we're living together and we've been blessed with this beauty that was a promise in his name before I knew it, as a welcome present. So I told him.
...
We had weather like that all November. Since I'm writing this quite later, I can say the very first day of December we woke up to the sound of heavy rain and menacing wind, and the trees lost most of their leaves that night.
There are still days of lovely slanting sun, though. Still clear autumn.
