Reflection on Autumn

A Rhythm of Letting Go

The leaves turn from green to gold, from yellow to red, and the wind carries them like little memories through the air. I walk through streets and fields, feeling the quiet exhale of nature before the winter rest. The earth smells warm and damp, of mushrooms, falling leaves, apples, pears, and nuts now ripe and heavy on the trees.

The days grow shorter, the light soft, almost amber, and I allow myself to sink into it. I gather pumpkins and grapes, cook meals from fresh ingredients that nourish and warm me as the sun sinks lower. In every taste, in every scent, there is a memory of summer slowly fading, and a foretaste of winter, which will still everything.

I walk slowly, I observe, I feel the cool air on my skin and the rustle of leaves under my feet. In the ripeness of the fruits, in the falling leaves, I recognize the passage of time, the cycle of becoming and fading, of arriving and letting go. I breathe in, I am present, and in this gentle melancholy, I find peace. Autumn is the ending and at the same time the preparation for all that is yet to bloom.
I try to take it all in, ready for what will flourish again.