the blue muse

Tired this evening, but the good kind of tired, the kind that comes from a job well done, a job completed, the hard part behind you, the enjoying the fruits of your labor ahead.

The gray days of autumn are here, those limbo days that fall in-between the oranges and the golds and the reds and the cool blues and sparkling whites that will come soon, with winter.

But even the grayest of days carries bits of color in its pocket, there is this golden sunset, the silhouette of those last few leaves holding on for dear life. These are the bits to hold onto.

Inside, I sit by a fire that mirrors these colors, orange and black, blue and yellow. The colors of tired, the colors of dusk, the colors of content.

Tired this evening, yes.

But also, grateful.

Alive.