The wind moved like the sigh of Earth in contentment and longing. It blew over an ocean and brought the smell of salt to the shore where autumn had begun to take its effect. On the beach there, a pair of closed eyes gasped for sight and the smell hit the nose below them. But closed they stayed. The mind behind them wanting to make up the lack of the other senses. The waves moving on the wind that carried the salt that could almost be tasted from the yawn of a mouth. A shiver ran through that body as wind blew against it. The experience of it, the cold air, the lines of trees with autumn leaves set ablaze is something that comes by annually. Ritual. The Earth is in ritual, practicing resurrection year after year. Suffering, violent, malice-heavy, dying, resurrecting, filling with wonder, regaining innocence, true purity, and repeating the cycle.
