Weeks wore on as I was adjusting my wheels to my new home. Seasons were about to turn and I had heard that Autumn lasted just a tad longer than a blink. But little did we know that October had some tricks up her sleeve. Warsaw had been blessed with magnificent weather the sun wasn’t shy and the breeze was cool and crisp across your skin.
My eyes seemed to always be cast skyward for I have an infatuation with the clouds and their metaphorphaisis from a lazy summer day memory stretched across the sky to a moody autumn shadow throwing it’s tears to the ground. I’ve fallen in love with the soft ombre of a sunrise where the sun peeks out from the horizon castings it’s delicate brilliance upon clouds that catch it and flush with radiance. Some days the sky is a kaleidoscope of blue, clouds dance shaping the shades and rotating patterns right above ones head. Trees had started to blush, turning their leaves so they could hear me speaking of their radiance as I wandered aimlessly under their dwindling silhouettes.
I enjoyed wine under the miraculous honey glow of Autumn and stumbled myself into a proper gay bar where I shared stolen bathroom candy with strangers that quickly became friends. The air was biting but my hands were warm as I unsuccessfully navigated through the winding streets of Warsaw watching leaves fall like pieces into place.
I spent much of Autumn claiming the markets as my own tasting wine, drinking beer maybe singing some Pochontas songs for all to hear. But nothing could hold a candle to the weekend strolls through Lazienki park who’s leaves were on fire, burning so brightly gold before cascading to the earth. I swayed and pranced on top of a river of leaves adorened with pomegranate kisses and sunburst scars in front of a palace where peacocks roamed. Crossing the river to Praga where I discovered the brilliance of kicking flammable leaves and laughing at their magical decent while eating ice cream from a bubble waffle cone. 
Although the color bursting days of Autumn are behind me the crackling leaves and skeletons of trees serve as a stark reminder that there is beauty shedding skin and weathering the dark days of winter. Memories that are tangled with sunshine will try to flee from my mind but I will hold close to my heart and keep them vibrant in my soul. Winter will soon knock down my door, but I know that one day soon the sun will kiss my skin again and those bare-boned trees will withhold the promises that spring from nature’s hardest hue to hold. 
a wanderess tale 