Fall snuck up on us more than a month ago, but I think I’ve been in denial. As long as the sunsets promised golden light and tomato plants produced, it couldn’t possibly be fall. But it was. It has been. And now I can’t avoid it any longer. The blankets, packed away when we began shedding summer layers, are once again stacked high on the bed. Morning stays dark until it’s too late to be enjoyed, and the sun falls into the earth long before I’m ready to lock myself inside for the night. This is when I know nothing else but curling up, cocooning, being still and quiet. This is why I need a manifesto. Perhaps a little late, though right on time with that chill in the air, these are the things I want to do as fall ends and winter arrives. Some are huge. Some are small. Some won’t happen. But then, we’ll just try again later.
Shoot more film. (must. remove. broken. roll.)
Plant a winter garden.
Finish “the” photo books.
Pluck Brussels sprouts from their stalk and roast them. Nom.
Finally pick up your pumpkin-orange Polaroid SX-70 and use that brand spankin’ new box of Impossible Project film.
Make the house smell mighty fine with cider.
Write one, two, three, maybe four freelance stories.
Watch a movie in a theater. It’s sad how long it’s been since I’ve been.
Finish at least two of the books I said I couldn’t live without.
Sit around a campfire on a cool evening.
Make a new home.
Spend a Sunday afternoon in the kitchen making something from this beauty.
Visit two local wineries I’ve always meant to visit, but never have.