(no subject)

[lapsedmodernist]

beginnings of seasons always do something sharp to me, while the ends gently dissolve, shimmering like air through smoke. snow makes me want to be quiet, when snow is falling I feel like I could be a secret agent, or a ghost, and--and in the winter, and only in the winter, I love equally looking inside houses from the outside and looking out the window from the inside.

you wouldn't think it, but winter is structured like a chiasmos.

Comments

[exterra.livejournal.com]

this is lovely. The changing of seasons also affect me in a raw, unspeakable kind of way. Though over here, I'm not familiar enough with the tempo and transition of whether... the blistering hot simply peters out into warm weather, then into chilly nights. They say that it only gets cold after the rain comes. the only thunderstorm I've ever experienced here was a few days ago... and the weather has become colder since then. But since I didn't expect it, didn't have the pattern imprinted within my memory from previous years, there wasn't the same sense of transition... just eager relief from the catharsis of a good storm.