warming weather, leave us be

for overcasted mountain scapes

that bring on more inspired thoughts

and lift the gaze to whispered ways

 until it's cold enough to breathe

and build our fires for heaven's sake!

iphone | environmental self - hermonville, france
© kimberly k. taylor-pestell, all rights reserved

This happened.

It's hard to believe that since Jason's perfectly original, overcast autumn proposal two years ago yesterday, we have experienced so much newness. New jobs for both of us, a truly true wedding, the making of our first little home and finding out that being "us" really is the most naturally lovely thing I have encountered.

I am so happy with our little life together even when outside shadows taint clear days. And remembering that the true joy of two years ago, is one of those wonderful things I understand that no one else can possibly share in, except for Jason and me. Because it was just us there in that moment, sitting in a small, curtained photo booth waiting for the flash. And maybe that is why we can't ever forget.

And it doesn't even matter that when we returned to the Italian cafe this weekend, the wide glass windows shown through to a now vacant expanse waiting for a new buyer to come along with a new vision, or that our beloved little photo booth at the newspaper shop broke down and the owner had to bid it goodbye.

There may not be anything left of that day but our memories and priceless photo strips, but the beauty of it all hangs in the air like red paper kites, tails streaming in the wind.

Last night, I fell asleep to comforting rainfall. Strings of raindrops traveling in lines down window panes and making a gentle barrier between.

I woke at 5:15 a.m. and could not find sleep again and it has made for a lovely morning. With crisp, cold air beckoning me to meet autumn outside for some quality time, I bid my little Nadia-cat goodbye and went for a drive.

Sometimes, I forget how quiet and still early morning can be. You see people out on the streets who you never see because they're already gone by the time you venture out for the day. An entirely different set of people who rise early, make the first footprints in the dewy grass, and witness the start to the days we share together, apart.

Perhaps I would like making friends with the morning.

impossible film | quiet (versailles, france)

© kimberly k. taylor-pestell, all rights reserved

Today is a Wednesday. A Wednesday with delicious morning beverages and surrounding mists and crisp, cold weather for breath clouds and shivering.

I want to be outside listening to booted feet on cold pavement. To sit in the middle of its goodness and notice everything. And to pen some sentence-strings because it is the first day that really feels like October and it deserves to be embraced.

So, cheers to autumn, and to feeling inspired and content. To waiting all summer-and-spring long to find a chipper season-friend that can draw me in and make me feel a part of my surroundings. The season that feels like a truer expression of my being and lets me remember what it's like to reside in a deeper authenticity simply by existing while it exists, too.

Thanks for coming, friend. You are most welcome, so please stay a while.

polaroid | thank you for coming

© kimberly k. taylor-pestell, all rights reserved

iPhone 5 | Monsterpiece Theatre

© kimberly k. taylor pestell, all rights reserved

Just wait until you see the Monsterpiece Theatre Photo Booth...

iPhone 5, instagram | halloweenified 

© kimberly k. taylor pestell, all rights reserved

This weekend was successful. A tad more relaxation than productivity, but I did manage several items on my weekend list.

Since I am not a fan of blood, guts and gore- I opt for a different route for Halloween fun and decor. And thus, a few new scissor- and cardstock-induced callouses aside, I am pleased to present my little flying paper bats!

One delightful template from the ever-inspiring Merrilee, and my living room is on its way to being Halloween-ified. Poor Nadia has reluctantly abandoned pursuit, realizing that she is much too small a kitten to reach them. The best part was discovering that they make shadows on the walls.

 

Other decorative elements in the works, but I am saving those for later. =] Mwahaha!

iPhone 5, instagram | bats and shadows

© kimberly k. taylor pestell, all rights reserved

check, please

emotionally, even

mentally, captivated in stories

creatively, on intermission and i've gone for nachos

physically, tired

spiritually, unsure what that means

it's a strange autumn this year.  there is no autumn weather and the surroundings feel like a contradiction.  pumpkin specialty drinks and apple desserts have been written in chalk on menu boards, but there are no crisp winds or scarves to draw you into these places.  temporary halloween shops have moved into town bringing their unsightly gothic masks of rubber and plastic, but they feel premature.

where is autumn this year?  autumn weather makes birthdays so much better.  please, come soon...

{polaroid 600 with impossible film: cabin-staying - lake big bear, ca}

© kimberly k taylor, all rights reserved

the many joys of autumn

B and Jason playing with birch seed pods.

1.... Crisp leaves on cool sidewalks
2.... Knit tights
3.... Months anding in -ember
4.... Steaming beverages
5.... An annual birthday outing
6.... Layers of sweaters and coats and scarves and gloves
7.... Polaroid landscapes
8.... The L.A. County Fair
9.... Reading novels beneath warmly worn quilts
10.. Brisk winds
11.. Thanksgiving
12.. Pumpkins everywhere
13.. Earth tones
14.. Christmas film previews
15.. Blue Roses' birthday
16.. Umbrellas
17.. Wind blown, smogless skies
18.. Collect Autumn leaves
19.. Fuzzy socks
20.. Apple cinnamon flavors
21.. Corduroys
22.. Riley's Farm
23.. Game Nights
24.. Pumpkin bread
25.. Prelude to Winter

{canon 30d : fall in the middle of spring}
© kimberly k taylor, all rights reserved

November games

         

November, a favorite month of mine, is nearly through its thirty days of existence for this year.  And it has done beautifully, bringing us true autumn weather, crisp leaves on cold pavement, and coats with tights and boots.

I have absorbed this year's November with the reading of novels beneath soulwarming quilts, the writing of brilliant letters between long-lost cousins, the sipping of bittersweet cocoa from charmed ceramic mugs, the shopping of Christmas gifts for loves, and the enjoyment of dearly beloved joygivers who ever instill hope and love and the true meaning of friendship.  It is not so horrible an experience to be lost, when you are lost while holding another's hand.

Thank you, November, for coming again.  I love how you always come.

{canon 30d: of november}
© kimberly k. taylor, all rights reserved

*P l e a s e   n o t e :*
The top image features a lovely paper envelope holding a most
delightful photographic print that I purchased from the ever-
enchanting photographer, Jen Altman. All rights for the image
of the plates featured in the above picture, go to Miss Altman.