Everything has changed this week. The time, the light, the season. My home and jobs.
It's darker than dark here in Point Reyes. When the sun dips, you are surrounded in a pitch black. Artificial light is minimal and head lamps are always in the forefront of your grasp.
My golden hour app dings at 3:35 to tell me the light will be good at 4:35. The days seems so much shorter than they have ever been this 36th autumn I have lived. Maybe it's Point Reyes and the new home, maybe it's being old and grasping for every inch of time as it slips through your hands so much faster than it ever did.
You don't need to wait until 4:35 to get good light. This autumn light is so gentle and creamy all day long. I'll be out with my camera the next time I see a day off.
It's time for fires and long talks and movies and tea and chestnuts and pumpkins and the magic moments of little children dressing up in Halloween customs or tingling with excitement over Santa coming.
It's time for reflection, to be internal and nostalgic for those beautiful moments and beautiful messes left to become foggy in your memory, to confuse the moments for messes and the messes for moments.