our hike was five days ago, a vibrant and perfectly blue and crisp fall morning. and now I'm looking out the window at a world shrouded in grey, misty softness. most of the trees have lost most of their leaves at this point, and our street is covered with the leaves of the large white oaks. the shock-and-awe part of the season is coming to a close, making way for this other half of fall. the softer, more subtle half that helps us slip into the coming season. for the longest time, I wasn't much a fan of winter. maybe because it meant my favorite time of year was coming to a close, maybe because of the shift in the light, which seemed abrupt and cruel when we moved the clocks around. maybe because of the cold and the slushy grey. well, now that is different. mostly. now I appreciate being able to see the bones of the mountains and the skeletons of the trees once the leaves have fallen to their terrestrial resting place. I have come to embrace the earlier dark, and the way it calls us to come in and settle down sooner, giving us an excuse to pause, to slow down, to tend to ourselves and take the rest we need. to make big pots of soup to share with friends over long dinners.
but. we aren't quite there yet. there is plenty of fall still to enjoy, of course.
and then there will be winter. to also enjoy.