The happy place

Today the grounds were wet from the past weeks’ ceaseless rain. There were brown puddles on the fields.

The air felt cold, and yet the sun shone down from heaven, a clear ray through the opening between two big clouds.

The land in general is orange and sometimes yellow. Most trees still cling to their leaves however some are completely naked, carpeting the wet ground with theirs. I still see the green grass spotted here and there through the orange, and I marvel at how beautiful it all is.

The darkness comes suddenly however, the days feel truncated. Like it’s some bad joke that it’s completely black out there even before dinner.

That is ominous. And where is the moon? And the stars? There is this mist rising day and night. They could be up there, but concealed.

I have a feeling that the gods are nearer during autumn and spring. I see them in the mist, and I can clearly picture how some of the trees concentrate their life forces in their roots underground. Like they die and resurrect every year.

I think during winter that the gods of death reign supreme although that is a simplification as some creatures, like penguins, flourish during winter, but still for most it’s lethal.

But winter is beautiful too.