Time feels freer, when it’s late and unkempt. As her hair often gets. Feeling time slowing down is one of the subtler pleasures of being a human being. Thinking of timeless tones in music from earlier centuries. As if moody, resonant chants were found in a deep forest cave and weren’t created by human voices. A voice in your head tells you it’s time for a change. Time expands or contracts, depending upon where we exist on the seasonal wheel. In the season of transition, outwardness meets introspection. When there’s a chill in the air, time wears a spooky mask in the misty overcast nighttime. You think about the inward dimension of minds, especially when compared to clocks, movie cameras, or wishing wells. Spheres of thought can become tangled. Connected vines block forest trails. Pushing through, and untangling daydreams and night visions to see how far they’ll stretch. Especially on moonlight walks. We possess vision for looking into one another’s face, mind, intricacies, nerve endings, and wonderments. You remember her on the houseboat at night, several years ago. It’s become part of your mythology. Feeling like scenes from another lifetime. Some days you wake early enough to see the day with a luminous clarity, a sense of lightness and space that had been hiding in the basement of your mind for the longest time. Cutting through mind sludge and grinding gears with a familiar aliveness. Morning thoughts feel as though they’re hovering a few feet in front of your face. Autumn rolls over you in windy waves of cool air. Yellow leaves fallen and damp underfoot, making the cut-through alley seem like a long-lost passageway to another dimension. You turn and keep walking on the deserted backstreet as morning light shifts color and opens up a new part of the sky.
What a perfect story for a rainy October day. Thanks for sharing Russell!
Softly, softly comes the beautiful tribute to life and season. Thank you.