I felt it today. The sky hung so low and thick it was almost suffocating, and carried in wisps on the breeze, I heard her whisper. "I'm coming," she breathed, and just like that the temperature dropped and the clouds grew darker. I listened intently, feeling the wind blow on my face. When she finally comes, we gladly give up our games and carefree lives of leisure, only to realize it's January first, cold and miserable and gray, and we desperately wish summer were here again and regret the easiness with which we gave those things up. But Autumn is an unstoppable force and cannot be pleaded or bargained with.
Now the drops are falling heavy, purposefully; I propped my window open earlier and the curtains are swaying and billowing soundlessly. I want to write more about the rain, but then I come across this bit in Sylvia Plath's journal: "It is raining. I am tempted to write a poem. But I remember what it said on one rejection slip: after a heavy rainfall, poems titled RAIN pour in from across the nation." I will be content to listen instead.
It's comforting, listening to the rain through the window. I rearranged my room today and it feels so much cozier and lovely. It started with the curtains; I've been meaning to put them up since May but it was only crossed off the todo list today. While I was putting them up, I realized I couldn't stop with just the curtains--one quote from John Green's The Fault in Our Stars (which I started last night and am almost finished with) keeps running through my mind: "I fell in love with the way you fall asleep: slowly, then all at once." But it's applicable in many ways more than just sleep--like my curtains. First one step slowly, then everything else all at once. Autumn, too. The dog days of summer follow in slow, sticky succession and you think relief will never come, until one day there's a break in the heat and the next day it's a little cooler until suddenly fall surrounds you wherever you go. Slowly, then all at once. In some way or another, maybe that's the pattern of life.

So we meet again. Just when I thought it was too late in the year for bare feet and stoop sitting, the weather turns. And as I write this, I find myself back outside, on the stoop, barefoot. Barefoot and with a bowl of ice cream in hand, chocolate with chocolate chunks. The scrape scrape scrape of my spoon rings out loudly into the early evening as I scoop up the last dregs of melted goodness. And as the sun slips lower and lower to the horizon, where it will eventually fade away, I'm lost in golden-hued fallen leaves and the earthy smell surrounding me.




I like the way the leaves crunch and crackle underfoot, like a long, drawn out solo in the symphony of late autumn. At the same time, though, I can't help but feel a little sad that the jewels softly blanketing the ground now used to adorn the trees, now void and stark against the sky.



I've made it to Thanksgiving break, my first respite since summer, and I'm oh so happy. I plan to fill my seven days of nothing with reading, crafting, writing, knitting, catching up on sleep (why am I always so tired?), eating good food, and going on excursions. I'm excited for this week to commence.

i cut little sister's hair. i don't think it looks half bad.

And now, the sun is almost gone and my toes are frozen from the cold concrete. But first, to celebrate the beginning of the break, I've put together a little playlist of my November favorites.

What are some songs you've been crushing on lately? (if you're viewing this post in a reader, you'll have to click through to see the playlist.)

Happy Wednesday!

xo


ps i spruced up abbey's blog a bit -- what do you think?

I've come to dread the chirp-chirp of my alarm in the morning. It's all too cheery for a time when my eyes are still droopy and the sky still inky black. It takes me awhile to muster up the courage to crawl from the billowy folds of the blankets, the pleasant weight that never fails to lull me into slumber. I've even taken to setting my alarm ten minutes earlier, knowing full well that I'm not going to get out of bed when it actually goes off. Once my feet hit the floor, I know that the day has started and there's no crawling back into bed, hence my trying to prolong the inevitable.

Nevertheless, the days have been passing quickly, settled into a regular routine of work and school. I've been making a conscious effort to spend time under the vast blue sky every day, a vain attempt to seize each sliver of the fleeting autumnal hours (how can it be that tomorrow is November?). Hours that consist of piles of leaves, the ones that have already drifted lazily from their perch on the tree, lots of socks (my feet are perpetually cold), plaid flannel shirts, sunshine-y, cool weather, hot apple cider, mustard yellow anything, planning for and anticipating the upcoming holidays, and just plain living.

It's evening as I write this now. The fairy lights are still twinkling from the patio umbrella, decorated with tissue paper pompoms and chinese paper lanterns. The embers of the bonfire are still glowing, chairs arranged in a half-circle around it, and the remnants of s'mores and homemade pretzels and memories of a good time linger, a feeling that's almost tangible. I'm curled up into my favorite easy chair, the one with the fluffy sheepskin and overly plush back. The last guests from our party just trickled out the door -- I'm not a huge fan of the holiday known as Halloween, but this little (what has become annual) get-together is one of my favorite parts of October.  It's nights like these, reflecting after a party, that make me so very thankful for friends.

sweater: thrifted / jeans: american eagle / boots: my mom's / belt: forever 21 / scarf: my grandfather's

Tomorrow is November. October is a time of full blown fall, but by the time this next month rolls around, it's more of a blustery, wintry feeling. Yes, I'm sad to see October go, but I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving and the Christmas season (because let's face it, the weeks before Christmas are just as good, if not almost better, as the day itself).

Life. I like it.

How have you been spending your days lately?

ps guest posting over at beauty like a kaleidoscope today -- come say hi!

It's an in-between month. September, with summer weather in the beginning, then a slow, slipping transition into fall; dotted with birthdays and celebrations and just plain loveliness. 

And then there's October. Tucked into the space between the last traces of summer and the first icy tendrils of winter, I feel as if it's the only legitimate month of autumn. I tend to overlook this month of crackling, crunchy leaves, a thousand shades of crimson and amber and gold; the clear, blindingly azure skies; the wispy scent of smoke in the air; the extra patchwork quilt on the bed. But when October arrives each year, I wonder how I ever survived without it.
It's the first touch of fall, the dipping-in-your-toes stage, a bit of a deja vu when reacquainting yourself with the  new season. It's the second and third mug of hot chocolate, steaming and frothy with milk. It's the flushed pink cheeks and frozen ears, tingling just enough to make you feel more alive than ever. It's the crackling fire on a chilly night, the smoke making its lazy ascent into the velvety, star studded blackness. It's October and I'm quite smitten.

Exactly one year ago today, October third, I was in Paris. I can't quite wrap my mind around the fact that so much time has already passed – time flies so quickly. I miss it. I remember biting into my first pain au chocolat (and consequently dying a thousand deaths of buttery goodness) in one of the myriad tiny bakeries that dot every inch of the city. I remember trudging up the steep steps on the hill that houses Sacre Coeur and gasping at the sight of Paris spread out before me. I remember seeing the Mona Lisa for the first time and the giggle my mother and I shared looking at the other spectators jostle each other for a good photograph. I took a picture of that scene.

I also remember sitting at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, crying. My emotions were a mess that day – simultaneously elated, excited, and exhausted. I realized while sitting on that bench that I only had a few days left in Europe, and I cried. I was overwhelmed with everything I'd seen in such a short amount of time and my feet ached from walking so many miles. I cried, wishing the rest of my family could be there right with me. I cried in happiness and disbelief that I was really there. Yes, I'm silly – but sometimes when you're caught up in a moment, it's hard to keep your emotions in check.

September was a good month, a very good month. But this is October. A month of memories, new things, warm colors, and lots of family time. This is October and I'm so glad it's here. 

xo

ps to ring in october, a new look at pastor's girl's ponderings. it's a change i've been planning and working on for a few weeks -- while i find sidebar headers lovely, i was ready for something different. thoughts?


update: for those of you that thought my blog design was similar to hannah's -- there's no question that i admire her designs and blog, but i promisepromisepromise that i was working on this design before she redid her blog. i suppose great minds think alike, no? ;)