#11 ‘LeafLess’ -November-

Of all the months of the year, as we count them, November is the one that calls me the most. Maybe it is something I inherited from my grandfather. The autumn blues… The calling of the ancestral wolf from the Carpathian Mountains.

They say that his beautiful dramatic tenor voice could be heard only on those dark, misty autumn hours. You could hear it through the village if you listened carefully, in the hours which don’t belong to the night, nor to the day, when even the dogs are asleep. In the cold, moist silence, a fiddle under his arm, on his way to the next wedding to enchant those celebrating with reckless melancholy. Joy and tragedy mirroring each other…