October and her unpredictability will forever fascinate me. If October were a star-sign, she wouldn’t be a Libra or Scorpio; she’d be a Gemini – changeable, charismatic and curious.
Her wrath envelops the early morning sky with a blanket of grey, casting a melancholic spell on the world. Her tears fall, splattering pavements, drip, drip, dropping against window panes. Her unruly wind soars; awakening autumn leaves from their colourful beds against the trees – a rainbow of red, orange and pink dance in the air, twisting and twirling in time with the breeze. Yet, hints of her joy peek through those dark clouds, and as the sunlight warms the city, the crisp air fills with subtle hints of pumpkin and cinnamon from a nearby Starbucks – tempting you inside for a hot chocolate and a slice of sticky pie.
Oh, Autumn. You beautiful thing, you.
October today, well, she was soggy and morbid and forced me to remain in a blanket with a giant cup of coffee, watching endless Meg Ryan films on Netflix. I was actually quite grateful that she chose to wake up in this horrendous mood, because sometimes it’s beautiful to just sit and be.