Enchanting Nostalgia

beautiful memories and beautiful dreams

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My autistic October.

In my garden , where memories are buried under the trees , where the herbs filled with bitterness of the past, where unread letters scattered dust on worms and beetles , there October wanders. I watch him through the window, I calculate how many acorns his frozen fingers hidden in his pockets. He is embarrassed of my views and trying to hide wrapped in a dark blue coat of dusk. In the bluish evening I light a candle, leave them at the window at overnight, next to the books and a cup of bergamot tea, whose strong hazy smell remind me about predawn time. 

Here is notepad with his name. In it, he sometimes writes to me about his feelings, thanked me for the candles which reminds him of the lighthouse; thanked me for tea, which brings to his memory tired rivers, whose hair he was decorated with colorful foliage.

When I go to sleep, he sits at the head of my bed and read to me in a low voice excerpts from favorite books. Dreams are whispered by October closest to me, I keep them in a separate box with dry leaves and acorns that he collects for me in the garden.

He reminds me an autistic child, closed, lost in his own world so deeply that I didn’t reach his soul. We never talk directly… We don’t look into each other’s eyes… We share acorns and write words along the edge of the paper.

Now we still have time, my October.

We still have time …

Filed under october fall autumn leaf acorns cup paper ship paper boat nostalia nostalgic sentimental melancholy photography conceptual memories candles books