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Writer's pictureJoke De Roeck

Autumn falls

And just like that, summer turned to fall. Candles on, lights off. Music is inhaled in big portions in order to keep breathing and not fall into the dark depths of the grey new season. I have always had a thing for autumn. The cosiness, longing to hide under blankets, live on red wine and float around in nostalgia.

Summer carries an energy with her, unstoppable and endless. Sleep is forgotten, eyes wide open all day and night. The difference fades, sunrises follow sunsets fast paced. Birds sing way too early, dusk and dawn happen in such a short time span it was hardly ever worth closing your eyes for. Now the time has come to roll up in a ball and start my winter sleep. To catch up on a summer's worth of dreams.

The gateway to my dream world has never been more welcoming than these September nights. Cold breeze and starry skies blow magic into my room. My dreams are so vivid, they make me wonder what reality actually is. Does it start when I open my eyes, or when I close them? This, too, is autumn for me. Living in limbo between two worlds: the warm, energetic summer and cold, cosy winter. Autumn asks to stay inside and journey within. Slowly creating the shell you can hide in, before breaking free again when summer comes around.

Today marks one year after I set foot in Black Rock City for the first time. Burning Man forced me to break every piece of that shell still left around me, protecting me from the outside world. Even if I tried to hold on to my bubble, the heat of the desert made it evaporate. Gently recreating the bubble, I find myself sitting in my room in Brussels with a letter I had written to my future self one year ago at Burning Man.

A letter filled with wishes, questions and reassurance. I realise I am exactly where I longed to be. All these years of travelling were like one long summer. Coming home to Brussels is the ultimate autumn, with space and time for reflection, plenty of stories still to be unwrapped and written down.

The kettle is on, records playing and blankets soft and warm.

Home sweet home.

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