Moving

Leaves scatter across the front lawn, and I just laugh.  I won't have to rake them this year, which causes an unusual amount of joy to well up in me.  Turning back to the task at hand, I wrap another picture in bubble wrap and stick it in the box with the others.  We're moving in about a week to a town about fifteen minutes away from here.  There's a beautiful tree at our new house.  It looks ancient and leans slightly to the right, threatening to shed its yellow leaves onto the cracked cement below.  This will be a good move.  A time for change, a time to start over, a time to improve.  It will also complicate things, but that's how life works: you give a little, it takes a lot.

100 Words: Soaking It All In

 

Going My Way plays in the background as I light the candle and settle in my chair.  Darkness stains the sky, and leaves shiver in the frosty night air.  Inside, the air is thick and warm, infused with the inviting aroma of apples and cinnamon.  The dogs look up expectantly as fresh loaves of pumpkin-gingerbread float from oven to countertops.  "Maybe next time guys".  Bing Crosby's voice soothes its way through my tense shoulders, instantly relaxing me.  With only soft lamplight and shadows from the t.v., I tuck in under my quilt and soak it all in.