Dear December: a whipped cream sky

I've been half-thinking for a while that I might write a 'Dear December' series on here, to nudge myself back into writing more often. If you've been reading my blog for a while, you'll know that I did something like this in July. I posted something - a thought, an observation, a poem - almost every day. Going into the summer, I was feeling quite restless: a bit unsure of where I stood with a number of things, a bit too caught up in my own head. 'My plan is to root July back in the ordinary details of the here and now,' I wrote in June. And the way I did that was through writing (because writing, as I'm always saying, is less to do with words than it is to do with seeing.)

Anyway... I'd like to do that again. This has been a very difficult autumn. It's worn me down, each week some new lesson in what loss looks like (feels like, sounds like, tastes like, smells like. In real terms: loss looks like 47 cold sausage rolls*). I'd quite like to lift my eyes again. So I'm just squeezing this post in very quick while it's still the first of the month to say: 'Hello December, month of strung lights and cinnamon air. I'm going to write to you. I'm looking forwards to your glow. Please be a good one. Whether you are or not though, I'm making a pact with myself to try and notice you.'

♥

Notes: 

1. *I'll maybe explain that (the 47 sausage rolls) in another post. 

2. This picture is from earlier this afternoon when my brother and I sat cross-legged on the floor by the lounge window and watched the clouds for a bit. He thought they looked like fire. I said: 'They look a bit like whipped cream.' (I came home yesterday afternoon for a visit, and haven't quite seemed to make it back to my Glasgow flat yet. Tomorrow! As good as it is to be "independent" and closer and everything, I love home the best.)

3. To mix(tape) things up, I'm going to post a song every day this month that I've been listening to or liking. Today: Evan and I were listening to 'Hooked on a Feeling' by Blue Swede while in the kitchen making peanut butter cookies (and accidentally setting the microwave on fire. My bad.)