Holcom Shower Door Parts

The woods of autumn Towards the sky

My wife loved the woods in autumn. She loved the smells, the colors, even the noise of footsteps muffled by the leaves.
Every year in mid-October, opened the cupboard and retrieved from the bottom of the clothes: long pants, flannel shirt, fleece. And then the K-way and green socks. He put the boots on the upper fat to soften and waterproof leather. It was a ritual, his, his same movements, the same superstitious gestures.
not had time. He went out at dawn with fog lights filtering through the first and veiled everything around, you forward, with his walking stick, under the warm sun after lunch while I was writing or resting, remained motionless, without breath, with the camera neck waiting for the sunset light hitting the leaves, and the shades of yellow, orange, brown, red.
He sat on a rock covered with moss and listened to the animals and plants. She was convinced that even the trees were a breath and talk to her. The stories told, he said.
was carrying a wicker basket and brought him back home heavy mushrooms: chanterelles nails, drum sticks. The porcini cleaned them with a knife, cut them into slices and let them dry in a wooden box. Or put them in jars in olive oil, whole.
It also includes chestnuts, those big, shiny, and experimenting in the kitchen every time a different recipe: chestnut soup and risotto, meatballs and souffle with chestnuts, pudding and cream of chestnuts.
Yes, my wife loved the woods in autumn. More
me.
That's why I buried in the meadow, after the fallen pine, behind the boulder-shaped chair.
I saw her return, she opened the door and I hit in the face with a spade. He said oh just a surprise as he fell to the ground. I cleaned blood and waited for the dark, with a smile on his face and a cigarette after cigarette between her lips every now and then touched her with his shoe. Not pretending. She was dead for real.
It was funny to take the road through the woods and turn left after a few meters towards the path she did every day that God sends into the ground. I wanted to laugh, the forest has been his life and will also be his tomb. You will feel comfortable in the peace we seek in the trees, storing food for the winter of his animals.
Now at home, where I expect a beer and the work more tedious.
rid of chestnuts and mushrooms kept in the pantry.
I always told him that I do not like.