13 November 2013
Novembers were once road trips to northern California and pumpkin pie and glowing living rooms. Now they taste like apple pie eaten with fingers and feel like frozen cheeks. I can still smell the Volvo I sat in then, the Volvo that smashed in a four car pileup three months later. But the light shines through the trees this November.
I took these last winter, in February. I remember standing at the window in my socks and clicking the shutter. I love watching the snow streak by my window and slowly color the rooftops white. Another winter is coming, another year.