(no subject)
fire in the oven and my room is warm. the whole building smells of burning wood and coal, cozy and inviting. we'll hibernate for the winter and hang out with the neighbors and drink in the dark. it creeps in, this winter dark, thick and blanketing, it dampers even the electric lights. we huddle together, speak softly, move slower. the daylight hours are turning gradually to grey and the deep frozen darkness is yet to come, maybe in december and january. it's beautiful anyway, this change. the leaves fall from the trees in reds and yellows, turning grey-brown as well. the whole city becomes one color, but the little lights, the small riotous resistant hues, are stark against it. these are things you wouldn't otherwise notice: a bright yellow umbrella on a balcony, vivid pink and violet flowers in a garden. the city desaturated. negatived. it's another place altogether.