fall ravel

Oh September, you came and you left.
It's the first day of October. The kind of fall that is rich and full, rusty leaf-hues, crunchy on the ground, air-born in the breezes. Like a flick of a light-switch, that change from summer. I almost forgot about fall, but now I feel a bit bombarded by the way it so fully asserts itself.
I am moving on Sunday morning to a brand new place, somewhere that I have been thinking about for a long time. As much as I let my mind wander around the potential of what's going to happen, I feel pretty sure that I don't know and can't know until I arrive. So I just feel this little tangle in my belly, that twists and pulls tighter when I move certain ways. I think if I make myself productive and just keep looking at what is still here, then surely I will soon be over there and then there will be no more wondering, just plain being. And I am so excited for that just being, taking myself off this trajectory. Like putting on a blindfold and spinning before taking a step. I don't think it actually matters in which direction I step, I want to let my feelings prompt me and see where that leads me.
If you have a wandering mind that wonders too, and you roll around potential futures, then maybe we can manifest some thought, share a cup of tea in a sunny living room, maybe it will be winter then, another switch gone through?
There is so much that I was to ravel/unravel. So much that I want to write down and turn into something tangible. So many images in my head that I want to see painted, made into the kind of colours you can look at twice.