“That country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and midnights stay. That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coalbins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from the sun. That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts. Whose people passing at night on the empty walks sound like rain.” ~Ray Bradbury, The October Country
We’ve almost made it through October Country ourselves, and me with very little to show for it. As regular readers will have surmised, the blog has been on an extended hiatus because of technical difficulties, which persist, and so the hiatus must continue for the foreseeable future. Of late, the job has eaten ravenously all my energy and free time, but I am ripping my way free for a Hallowe’en blog post, a small offering that will in no way tide any of us over.
Shall we go on then, you and I?
We shall.
