My wanderlust brings me yet again to my hiding. Or is it the desire to get inspired ? I am incognizant. The place no longer is the same as before. Fall has gone to give way to the chilly element which now sets. People have deserted it like some parched abandoned land. Thats what  humans are. We reap our fraction of ecstasy when its lush green and abandon it to oblivion when nothing’s left. I am not one of those reckless mortals. I feel life running through my veins when I come here. I feel the vehement chords striking from the entourage. I feel…. and can I not go on ?

I walk down to one of those paths which takes you in between the lake, to get surrounded by the Adam’s ale from all three sides. I do this to get close to where I have come from, to where I’ll go. I make a nexus. I know “it” listens to me. We talk in quiescence. I enter in temporal amnesia, forgetting everything which defines my existence. And its placidity which inculcates within.

Its a different time of the year now. Clouds play the hue game no more. They are all unified as a dark stretch of obsidian smoke, as if fighting the chill. There are still some red and saffron stripes which run from one end to eternity but they too tend to fade away. My contemplation of the firmament is blocked by the dead trees in the vicinity. They are much like the place itself, abandoned by the folioles, just those tiny twigs coming out of their branches finding life.

The lake is rampant. Listless & dissuaded. It still seeks the gold which is now black. The sun has lost its presence and is no longer to be seen. Deserted as the place is, makes me happy. The cars pass at a distance, but none make their way to the lake. They have their precedencies transformed now.

As the chill augments and I plan to bid adieu, I slowly look up…. close my eyes ……and take a deep long breath. As if gathering all the energy I can for the week to follow. As after that I return yet again… to my hiding. With the same chill. The same clouds. The same lake. And the same me giving in to the nature when it calls.