Tuesday, November 3

no lack of color

This morning.
The air was cold.
My body sore.
But time stops for no one... not even punks snuggled in their beds.

Our mornings are not rushed, but must maintain a certain momentum if everyone is going to arrive on time. I am the metronome to the morning.

Time to get up.
Get up.
Wake up beauty-pies.

And it continues. I put the clothes on the heaters. I make breakfast. Refill water bottles. Pack snacks. Check lunch tickets and diaries. Tick-tock-tick-tock... Brush teeth (we try), socks, shoes, coats, backpacks, door...

We can get it all in within about 45 minutes. Nicer when it's 60. Not so much when it's 30.

And this morning it was cold.
The changing season had wrapped itself around us in the night.
I could definitely feel it. And smell it's freshness.
That new season smell.

And it wasn't until I sat down two and a half hours later in my Italian class that I saw it. Right there in front of me, out the window.
Trees had turned red, yellow, with speckles of orange and burgundy.
Mountain tops white. Blue skies and white feathered clouds.

I've been walking on wet slippery leaves for a few days now... I wonder how I could have missed this.


  1. what a story, I can imagine your tick-tock minutes, 60 vs. 30...
    Thanks for your comment on my blog!
    See you again! :)

  2. "That new season smell." I love that line. :)

    You have an amazing gift for the perfect turn of phrase.

  3. And I thought posting to a blog every day was a challenge. You're doing it in blank verse! Way to up the ante.

  4. i love reading your posts. they are poetic. i too love that "new season smell" the smell of change and new beginnings. sometimes we get caught up in life and we can forget to look up and notice what is going on but then when you do - wow!

  5. Anonymous9:55 AM

    we have to take time to stop and smell the roses...

  6. Your posts are such a pleasure!


...and you may ask yourself, well...how did I get here?