Death

I love the smell of death. The sweet stench of dying that drifts through the fall air. The crunch it makes as I traipse through it. The bite of cold that I can taste. The colors that drift and pile everywhere. Yet, I hate it, it means winter is just around the corner. When nothing is happening, nothing is dying, nothing is living, but the world is frozen in a state of nothingness.

Winter is my least favorite season. Especially if I have to be out in it. I'm not a big fan of the cold. If I can be inside, wrapped up, with a cup of hot chocolate, a toasty fire, then I don't mind it so much. Its the freezing ears, frozen noses, icicle fingers, that get to me.

I tend to sink further and wallow more when the weather is dreary. Although I love rain. We had a good hard storm a few weekends in a row. I was in heaven. Every once in awhile, I'd step outside and just let the rain wash over me. Sinking into the smell. Watching as the storm moved in and out over us. It was beautiful. Watching the mountain disappear and reappear, covered in white.

I really do love living here. For the moment its where I need and want to be. Even if the weather is flighty.