Oh Autumn, where art thou?
The weather’s unseasonable. Too warm for my blood, to be sure. The autumn chill has been flirtatious, but she’s not settled in to stay and thus the leaves are slow to change. There’s a dichotomy there, I suppose; a hidden truth, unwelcome most like, but reality has a way of bending to ensure the illusion takes hold.
This is a little something I cooked up, hoping to draw autumn to us… The gods are restless and so am I. A change is going to come.