posted on Aug, 9 2016 @ 12:43 AM
Every year about his time, something happens deep inside. My perspective changes and my senses grow. I see things that before I hadn't, I feel
things as if donning new skin. The smells fill my nostrils and I separate and analyze them bit by bit. I cut my hair shorter, I trim my beard
What is it about early fall? Everything is dying and I'm coming to life. It's me but not the every day ...me. I hit the streets, anxious to
see the night. I hit the woods, anticipating the hunt. The moons phases seem to matter more and I feel how it will wax and wane.
My nights grow longer and for it, no tears will I shed. I live my life during these hours when most rest in their beds. Do primal urges wake up
during the fall? Does the impending cold urge the body to replenish it's stock? I'm looking forward to this metamorphosis, out of my cocoon and
back to life.