...is where my heart belongs, where it can be tempered by the early snows of winter and bound to the beauty of fallen, dead leaves.
The air has a bite and the wind a fierce howl, driving you to the comforts that are so often left by the wayside:
The hot cups of coffee, tea, and cider, the warm bowls of oats,
...and the sublime feeling of being wrapped in a blanket in front of a roaring fire, a book grasped in hand.
Yes, this is the season for me, where my soul is content, where I belong."
Author unknown, via
|photo sources here and here, others unknown|