What the Glass Does in October

Cold enough this morning that the windshields were frosted over. Not the first-cold-morning kind of cold, where you think maybe, the committed kind, where October has clearly stopped being polite.

I noticed it from the kitchen, coffee not yet finished. The window had done that thing where the frost comes up from the corners and feathers inward, and I stood there looking at it for longer than was strictly necessary. The windowsill arrangement was right there, cord, letterpress card, the photographs, Carol's small object, and the frost on the outer glass was doing something to the morning light that made the whole surface look like it was printed. I thought about getting the camera. I got it.

what October does to the glass before anyone's looking

At some point I apparently walked to the front door to look at the block, which was also frosted, cars, leaves, all of it, and I was outside in my socks before I'd made a conscious decision to be.

sock feet on the threshold, October being very clear about itself

October will do that. Make you step out before you've thought it through, just to confirm what you already knew from the window.

It's the fifth day of the month and it already feels like the real thing has started. The light was different on the morning run last week but this morning was the first morning where the air said so out loud. I came back inside, finished the coffee, and didn't write anything down for about forty minutes. Sometimes that's the whole post.