Eva Pasco's Blog - Posts Tagged "rain"
Eva’s Byte #550 – The Moors
‘Tis the season for ushering in the doldrums.
By turning the clocks back one hour, the early descending darkness, in conjunction with a persistent string of gloomy days and bouts of gusty winds severing most of the leaves from deciduous trees, have brought on a seasonal bleakness.
A writer in a literary frame of mind, I’m transported to the moors, the unforgiving landscape ingrained in Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights, a novel dear to my heart.
Purportedly, Brontë drew inspiration from the actual moors surrounding her family’s home in the West Yorkshire village of Haworth.
Envisioning Brontë’s moors which exemplify wild abandon and isolation, I truly relish New England’s dark, stark days for battening down the hatches and basking in the warmth of home.
Drafting my Contemporary work in progress, I’m wending my way toward the end of chapter 24 (1670 words thus far).
*May each of us adapt to nature’s seasonal nuances by creating our own comfort zone.
My sincere appreciation to you for reading this far.
By turning the clocks back one hour, the early descending darkness, in conjunction with a persistent string of gloomy days and bouts of gusty winds severing most of the leaves from deciduous trees, have brought on a seasonal bleakness.
A writer in a literary frame of mind, I’m transported to the moors, the unforgiving landscape ingrained in Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights, a novel dear to my heart.
Purportedly, Brontë drew inspiration from the actual moors surrounding her family’s home in the West Yorkshire village of Haworth.
Envisioning Brontë’s moors which exemplify wild abandon and isolation, I truly relish New England’s dark, stark days for battening down the hatches and basking in the warmth of home.
Drafting my Contemporary work in progress, I’m wending my way toward the end of chapter 24 (1670 words thus far).
*May each of us adapt to nature’s seasonal nuances by creating our own comfort zone.
My sincere appreciation to you for reading this far.
