I like the sound of the dishwasher, sloshing in its rhythm.
A yellow flame slowly melts copper wax, sending wafts of warm caramel apple cake into the air. Candles always seem like they belong in these months most. When everything burns, bright and bold, and then is suddenly swept away by all that is cold and still.
Mountain breezes chase their tails through open, sliding doors making unfinished grocery lists on the counter flutter.
The clock chimes but no anxious footsteps come rushing, and lemon soap bubbles just silently pop and drain away in the bottom of the kitchen sink.
There’s tidying and dusting and vacuuming thick carpet in preparation for mind-numbing snowstorms approaching with the later months. Boxes of tea in cinnamon and chai get stacked into the cupboards and though the fireplace remains dark and cold, it won’t be so forgotten in a few weeks’ time.
For now, the day is all about soaking up the last of the sun’s rays this season and the hum of life with school resuming rumbles on. The sunsets, like countertop candles, begin to burn in melted colors. And with every dawn the world holds its breath, wondering if sleepy eyes will be greeted by winter’s grey cloak or if the trees have remained blushing for one day more.