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A list of things to do this Christmas =D Comments & Bloglovin’ followers are much appreciated <3

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I always marvel at October, how it can be so full of opposites. It’s as if, since the leaves are doing something so dramatic and carefree in changing all those colours, the Earth thinks it can get away with anything, and runs around irresponsible and mad for a month or two before it goes to bed. It’s positively primal - full of wild rituals and cunning, changes and smoky figures dancing around fires, faces peering around the trunks of trees. October is the owl season - the long shadow season. Take that smoky smell: you don’t see all that many people actually burning things, but that smell is everywhere, drifting behind the rarity of the air like hidden darkness pooling behind the light, like Earth makes it somewhere in secret and slips it into the scheme of things, thinking no one will notice. The leaves come twirling down, and the wind waltzes them round and round, blowing from every direction at once. Black cats come east, come south, who knows from where, just for this season, just to see it. The days are warm yet cold, clear yet hazy; the world lives but dies. And the sun, pretending that it’s not losing its grip, that none of this is happening, pours down more and more light that’s all the while thinner and thinner. By All Hallow’s Eve there’s just nothing left of reason or fatness or gold - there’s nothing but dark music - and the trees gasp naked and frail into November. Who wouldn’t be worn out after a month like October?

Dragonfly by Frederic S. Durbin

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