The forest is currently one big, beautiful mess. It’s one of my favorite things to witness: everything turning, falling to the ground and decomposing. Though the feelings are conflicting: the juxtaposition of a season ending and a time of comfort and hibernation beginning. Conflicting for me maybe because I know I don’t like change, this creature of relentless habit, but I am certainly ready for fuzzy bathrobes, seeing hot breath in the cold air, and the rediscovered clarity that comes with being home, because it’s dark and you have no choice. It’s time to be homey. I know in February I’ll sing a different tune, but for now I want it. And I want it all covered in cinnamon and pumpkin.
I like this time of celebrating October people. Many of my closest friends are Libras. Libra, the season of balance, which makes so much sense. But I, the Virgo, just turned 35. It seems big. Maybe I feel like a grown up, finally. I think I like it, but maybe it’s a cover. Maybe it’s overshadowed by Lola turning five. My youngest–five! I didn’t believe that time would fly, but here I am and it did. It’s a good place to be though: I can talk about politics with Jonah, hike with Micah, and Lola is actually going to sleep by herself at night. It’s all very sudden and nice. And I have to reevaluate this whole dislike of change and embrace the rhythm and example of nature. So I tell myself once again. So much to learn and so much for which to be thankful.