Hookland 3/9/20 7:16:25

The year turns and my dreams shift with it. Nights thick with gathering of crows at wood edge. Carpets of rotting apples in the lane that burst blood when trod upon. The dark grows strong this season and my all my words carry the taint of bonefire smoke. – #CLNolan #Autumn

Hookland 3/9/20 15:38:17

@LadyAlthaea Many claim autumn as their favourite season, but remove the rot from its telling. The carpet of squish is as much a part of autumn’s joys as any ‘mellow fruitfulness’.