"nothing gold can stay"
the other night, my little family and i, plus my brother-in-law, found ourselves dining under the most beautiful blue sky. it became a rich, concentrated, sapphire as darkness set in and covered the midwest in a way that gave us no choice but smile. it was brisk outside, too. beautiful, beautiful, brisk.
brisk, is one of my favorite words by the way. brisk translated to me = mustard scarfs, leather boots, thick socks at bedtime, my favorite cashmere sweater, and patio dining under a simple string of lights. it's perfect and magical and my favorite time of the year.
brisk starts to happen as the leaves start to turn. not when they reach that crunchy brown stage where they blow back and forth and swirl around trees, no. brisk is right before that time. and when brisk creeps in, it does so in such a clever way. many times, it shows up to the party a little early or a little late, never on time. but i love the way brisk does this, because it never fails to add an element of surprise to those it graces it's presence with. and then when brisk gives you that familiar hug that you've been craving and longing for throughout that hot summer and cold winter, you find yourself wishing you could freeze time and savor that moment forever.
to me, brisk is perfection, and perhaps because it is so short-lived. mr. frost did say, "nothing gold can stay," and to me, brisk is the goldest shade of gold.