I am clinging to the storm clouds. Pulling them closer with sheer will. 6:30 has stayed for the day. I can't say I'm not pleased. I am grasping the moments with my sweaters. Counting down the days I can layer myself in soft warmth. Glad for excuses to stay inside. 90% of the lines in my face an etching carved by squinting in the sun. It is a relief to relax my face and peer out without light glancing off the world and piercing my pupils. Behind the mist a cold breeze to warm my soul. I am hoarding winter like gold. Waiting for the bizarre twist of fall in February. Because before long it will be creeping up on me. It has already started. This beauty is almost magical in it's arrival. A fairy gift amid the crunch of tardy foliage. But it is the signal.
Time..time...time swings a sickle to harvest the frost and plant the spring indelibly in my yard.
This photo of a camellia was taken on a run of the mill digital camera with no thought for composition, light, or angle. It may be blurry because I was stomping around the yard in a rain shower wearing my pajama's and fake Uggs and I can't see a darn thing on that stupid screen. I used no Photo Shop software to clear it, crop it, or adjust; color, contrast and depth because I didn't have time for that. I had to work on quarterly reports and then I pulled all the furniture out in my bedroom and vacuumed behind it and under my bed. Yes I did. And I don't have Photo Shop.
Now I'm going to take a shower, eat Sweet Sixteen Little White Donuts for lunch and take a nap.
Yes I am.
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