Tonight, when I went out onto the balcony to take a look at the deep red sky in the impending twilight, the bitter smell of smoke of burning leaves assaulted my nose. Never mind, that it was a mild, mostly windless evening and that the roads are clear of fallen leaves, the scent of burning leaves marks the beginning of autumn to me.
You can stick me out on my balcony blind in any season and I would tell you which one it was. I know spring by the smell of freshly grown greens and the smell of flowers, stronger or weaker depending on the month, summer from the scent of sun-baked stones and wood, autumn by the scent of tangy, bitter smoke of burning leaves and the rotting leaves and winter by the clear, sharp smell of pure oxygen.
Interrupted many times. I'll maybe finish my post when I won't feel so murderous anymore. I so need to get out of here.
No comments:
Post a Comment