December 1st

The leaves are changing colour, everybody knows that. Brighter and they burn into winter, ashes coating the floor. 

The air has begun its yearly reminder of bitter and brittle chill. We're all closer now, slower too.

For the first time in months I looked, I looked out the window to do more than check the weather and I saw, birds still fly, birds still sing. 

Do they notice the shorter days, or does lesser light lead them to believe they are faster?

People are breathing and I can see it. Clouds of exhales and sniffled noses. This is the warmest I've felt all year.