There is a certain kind of flat grey sky that invariably leaves me with a gnawing headache the moment I wake up. It isnt a migraine, which I have here and there, but an acidic aftertaste lodged in my temples, behind my eyes. Nothing helps but the coming sunset.
I have been considering the passing summer, which is finally relinquishing itself to the coming autumn. The leaves have yet to turn en-mass, but the threat is here. Cold rains replacing summer showers, a chill at night and the smell of frost on the tip of tomorrow’s dawn.
This year has not gone as expected. Expectations were very high at the start and have been met with the harsh reality of what has passed. I have managed to create, and left much to consider in the long run for the effect that this year will leave on the shape of my life. Yet after a long journey I must have passed the turn off someplace a bit back as I have yet to find my destination.
So the year comes into its decline and another looms out ahead. I dont really count my personal year from Jan – Dec (I prefer from my birthday to the next) but the grey sky and the coming cold tell me that change is here again, that warm days are few and that somehow things are preparing to sleep off the winter once more.