I came back to read this again tonight, while I listen to howling winds blow a chill across the land tonight, bringing lower temps and higher winds...parallelling today's mood swings.
I still embrace each November chill
as if it were destined to be an integral part of me, perhaps, because this is my birth month. It never matters what the weather does, what matters is how I accept it...with open arms or clenched fists, it shall be whatever it is.
And now that the mosquitos have left town? LOL, what's a skeeter hawk to do, but write some prose or poetry?