"For as long as she could remember, she had thought that autumn air
went well with books, that the two both somehow belonged with
blankets, comfortable arm chairs, and big cups of coffee or tea."
Katarina Bivald
The warmth of the fireplace colors my face and my favorite quilt hugs my legs. I breathe in the fragrance of hot apple cider and adjust the candles closer to my book. Warm pumpkin muffins fill my belly, and peace calms my soul.
As I gaze out of the window into my enclosed yard, trees are all decked out in amazing colors. The leaves display the gracefulness in falling, not to waste a moment as they ballet down to the aging earth. No whimpering about death or forthcoming decay, they seem to express in each instant twist the joy of the given day.
Settled into my most favorite chair, I open my book. My mind sees all that is yet unseen. My thoughts are stirred by what is hidden. My heart is touched by loving kindness. All that I am and all that I can be is magically transported to that other place in between.
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