The weather's turned sharp and bright, suddenly all October. We're remembering how to wear sweaters and jackets and socks, how to use a cup of coffee or tea as a good-smelling hand warmer, being reintroduced to dry skin and cold toes and diving into piles of blankets and dog fur at night. It's my favorite month, the month I dream about living in the country, by the ocean, among the trees. We walked through Wolf Neck State Park, and I imagined sleeping on the springy carpet of years of pine needles, resting my head on a mossy pillow, drifting off to the sound of the ocean.
I almost remember my dream from a few nights ago, but the parts I can conjure up include eating something (shrimplike)...? Something else that required the removal of dozens of tiny bones, skeleton-like, before it could be eaten. Shudder. It's probably good that I don't remember the rest.