2024-11-19: turning

we'd been lucky so far. the weather forecast finally, ominously, predicting snow: first, a day of heavy rain, turning into snow late at night. the grass is already squelching, slick and yellow-green, the fences soaked a deep grey.

the last few weeks have been unsettled, for reasons you can guess and reasons you can't. probably a sign that i've started dreaming of people i haven't talked to in years, decades. some i'd talk to again, others i wouldn't, no matter what my subconscious tries to say. i go downstairs to work and sit in the close darkness, sip cups of green tea while my dogs sleep. a friend leaves me a message on social media, refers to the current season as fall. true, though fall wears winter's clothing.

the tree's up, the tree comes on at 4. it's a little light in the early darkness — small, but something. i'm playing through old games on emulator. i'm reading books on the wwi eastern front. learning how catastrophes played out a century ago. wondering how they'd go now.

still a month to christmas, and i'm thinking about it a lot. christmas baking, and seeing my partner's family, and sitting in my corner of the living room, a pile of books and a whisky beside me. the usual playlists on the hi-fi. the end of the year. a bit of light.

but for now, fall wakes up, sloughs off its skin. there's a storm coming. i'm ready to shovel. this time tomorrow, the whole world will be white.

journal