It is funny what a big difference just a couple of days can make. There is a different kind of scent in the air now, the tone of nature's colours has changed, the air feels chillier even though the temperature has remained the same. I went swimming yesterday evening, despite the murky weather, in a small pond nearby where I live. The water felt heavy, its colour was darker, yet faded somehow, the sand between my toes was cold and sticky. As the rain fell on the pond and myself, the whole scenery was screaming decay. It is not the end of summer yet, but the tables have turned already. I could feel it in my bones, in my right knee, to be precise. (My knee was once dislocated, and ever since I have felt weather changes in it.)
Every once in a while I go through phases when I feel the need to revamp myself somehow. Quite often these moments coincide with seasonal changes. Sometimes it is about needing to read more books (winter), sometimes it is about needing to take life more lightly and to drink more wine (spring), sometimes it is about needing to ask a street performer out for ice cream (summer). What I feel now is a need for an external shift, as I often do, come autumn. I am not giving up my flowers, ruffles and pastels, but I long for colour, abstract prints and new types of surfaces beside them.