Saturday, October 04, 2008

"The leaves fall, the wind blows,
and the farm country slowly changes
from the summer cottons into its winter wools."
-   Henry Beston, Northern Farm

This time of year I have the urge to become a bit of a hermit. I want to shut out the world and hole up in my house for some time alone with my hot tea and my measured thoughts.

I want to read Wendell Berry and not emerge for days into the very nature he writes about. I need some time to blend the seasons.

At the same time, the days are too enticing. Beautiful weather encourages me to be outdoors and it seems a pity to not be interacting with people while the weather allows.

I'm left feeling that it's inevitable that something gets cheated.

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