Ponderous

[Goswinus]

A sad soul listens to the rain pattering against the door, the litanous shrieks of the wind blowing against the wood and walls, far away the droning rumbles of the sea and wind involved in a weird mating dance sweep over the country and the country holds itself in a frozen woe. The individual opens the door, accepts the lavement of elements and its raging beauty, while eyes set to sail to an immutable stillness.

[The Silent Man]

A sad soul listens to the rain pattering against the door, the litanous shrieks of the wind blowing against the wood and walls, far away the droning rumbles of the sea and wind involved in a weird mating dance sweep over the country and the country holds itself in a frozen woe. The individual opens the door, accepts the lavement of elements and its raging beauty, while eyes set to sail to an immutable stillness.

Open a bottle of single malt and throw away the cap. Drink till merry. Continue drinking until unconscious. Awake refreshed.

[Goswinus]

Or flow along with the spleen, rake among the shed dead leaves, select the pretty ones, jumble them first and put them in a particular arrangement and let it speak for itself. ;-) Use the dram only to set the synaps to work, accentuate some thoughts and emotions, deafen others and push them to the background, the fill another glass, light the pipe and stretch your legs and smile with satisfaction.
How's that for advice?:-)

[Treffie]

A sad soul listens to the rain pattering against the door, the litanous shrieks of the wind blowing against the wood and walls, far away the droning rumbles of the sea and wind involved in a weird mating dance sweep over the country and the country holds itself in a frozen woe. The individual opens the door, accepts the lavement of elements and its raging beauty, while eyes set to sail to an immutable stillness.

For some reason, this would appeal to me more if I was in your part of the world

[Goswinus]

For some reason, this would appeal to me more if I was in your part of the world

Nah, I live about 45 miles north of Ullapool, quite barren and marshy over here, the gales keep everything short and the few connifers that grow here are pretty much windblown. For deciduous trees, you're better off in, let's say, Lairg, where you can indulge yourself in an authentic autumnal sensation with its particular wet spicy smell that saturates the air.

Meanwhile over here, the landscape turned in a bleak and drab desert slowly falling into the icy fingers of Winter...