28 September 2017

finding our rhythm, come autumn.

it's the changing of the guard, and my soul never feels so at home as in these days, late in the year. we're finding our rhythms and rituals that will carry us into the cold months, and giving thanks for the way they organize our days and infuse deeper meaning into life.

i am finding comfort in the familiar joys of autumn: pretty, wooly things in hues of oatmeal and rust. slow afternoons spent baking. glowy candles in every room. flannel shirts and waffle knits. crisp denim and brown leather shoes. eating with the season, letting what's fresh at the farmers market direct our suppers. long sweaters with deep pockets. plans for a trip to the orchard. scattering pumpkins and dahlias about the place. a home that smells of eucalyptus and pine. evening strolls amongst swirling leaves. peeping festive stoops. filling our bellies with hearty soups. making playlists that minister to my autumn soul.

i am marching to new drumbeats, too: the steady hum of baby's heart, the sweetest sound we hear every fourth week. the press of husband's hand as he feels for kicks that aren't really kicks but tiny shooting stars. his or her waves in the ocean of my belly that make me giggle when i wake for water in the darkest hours of night. hunting and gathering wee knits and cozies. a new apartment and all that that entails -- new keys to fumble, new neighbors, new creaks, new quirks, new trains, new walks, new views.

and so it goes, as i tend to my own little world in ways slow and soft and fit for this growing season.

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