The days go by like slowly falling autumn leaves. I learn to forget and to flow, drifting like a leaf on a lazy mountain stream. Pulled along this way and that, offering no resistance as I float through the dull grey haze.
Wrapped up in a soft warm blanket of apathy, I have folded into myself emotionally and mentally, like some animal going into a long winter hibernation.
The leaves on the oak tree outside the chapel have turned to brilliant crimson and coppery tangerine veined with gold, driving back the last dying whispers of summer’s green fire deep into the wood.
Nature is drawing into itself as the cold approaches, preparing to hide in slumber over the long winter.
I’m doing the same.
I'm buried deep and safe beneath the surface of myself, dreaming away the hollow days, just
