I am chilled by the crisp fall air. The snow crunching under my boots, untimely this early in November, teases me. I crave that bitter cold of winter, the shivers and chills to then be comforted by a fire. I see my life as I’d like it to be, years from now. A creaking farm house, nestled between oaks and maples, plumes of smoking bursting from the chimney top. Wafting sent of apple pie and freshly baked breads, a warm cup of tea in my hand an a book in my other. Snow falling silently beyond the windows, drifting here and there on the whispers of winds. A dog at my feet, waiting for someone to return home. Peace and love in my heart.
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