The Opiate, Fall. Vol. 19
The Truth About August Charlie Brice is that it’s the month before September which means soon October will occur and then November and then winter! So many see winter as the end of something while I see it as the beginning of everything. Ice mist slaps my face into life. Out here it’s do what it takes or roll up into a ball and die. It’s the challenge of a snow cloud across a frozen Walloon Lake more beautiful than the luscious blooms of spring. Read Dickens in front of the fire, make cookies to combat the drifts, snowshoe up Townsend Road, across the heath on O’Conner’s farm, where cornstalks bow and wave in summer but only windforce sings in January. Yes, this is where everything starts, where the cold makes the heart warm, where a blanket of absolution covers the sins of sun and bloom and births a fresh start for us all.
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