#11 ‘LeafLess’ -November-

Photo: Snjezana Bartolec

ELEMENTARY

11.

‘LeafLess’

-November-

Of all the months of the year, as we count them, November is the one that calls me the most. Maybe it is something I inherited from my grandfather. The autumn blues… The calling of the ancestral wolf from the Carpathian Mountains.

They say that his beautiful dramatic tenor voice could be heard only on those dark, misty autumn hours. You could hear it through the village if you listened carefully, in the hours which don’t belong to the night, nor to the day, when even the dogs are asleep. In the cold, moist silence, a fiddle under his arm, on his way to the next wedding to enchant those celebrating with reckless melancholy. Joy and tragedy mirroring each other…

The months in which the smell of decaying life calls for an insane curiosity towards the dark. Delicious and dangerous. The sticky, muddy mood, the oily eyes which see sharper than usual and want to feed on souls. The stare that stops the time. The skin that longs to be hurt and the breath that doesn’t need to speak. The mind travels far to reach the Master of the dark that finally calls in tongues that I can understand. Sings of obvious life, so trivially celebrated, disappearing.

Only the naked truth of the core that in its essence doesn’t need beauty. It doesn’t attract to mate. It creates. It is. It takes. Bare and true in its overwhelming energy. The creator himself. The one that doesn’t long for happiness. The one that knows. The one that is amused by the pain that the seekers of the light are feeling. The one that says, ‘I will wake you up when the time comes’.

November, the great seducer...