it is now november. the mountians still attempt to beckon me, and i stop in wonderment from something, many things, deemed beautiful. the months and days continue to pass by as sure as the moments on the digital time tellers fail to grasp a minute, longer than a minute.
i took a barefoot walk the other day; where the ground was cold except for those sun spots on the sidewalk. calloused toes have passed with the summer activities, and the seeming sharp edges of the crispy leaves dug into my suple flesh... yes! i long to only do it again. perhaps, this very day-- i will again meandor through the fallen leaves, emersing myself into the churning seasons, as i wish for those tough summer toes once more. tough and tan... not today, although they will reek of scents that may enable you to envision a delightful classic with pages full of dated aroma read by one on a grand leather chair, with velvet wine in hand and the sparks of the fire dancing to the pattering of the rain. fall turning into winter. my feet, given a chance will attest, to the present season.
take care. consider a barefoot staunter. or just eat some soup. welcome to november.
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