Call me weird but when the dawn becomes later and the dusk gets earlier I want to jump up and down for the thrill of it.  October makes me want to make soup in large amounts, wear tall boots like it is my job and curl up on the couch and dream.  I dream of moving near the beach in Astoria, Oregon.  Homeschooling, working remotely and baking all day.  But then I remember the 2020 pandemic stay-at-home orders and  I forget that the first two stunk so all I really want to do is move to Astoria and drink good beer.

If you have ever lived on the western side of the PNW you know that the gray stays and stays once we hit October.  There is a precious pattern to the gray. Unlike the lather, rinse and repeat pattern of showering the overcast and gloom pattern of fall has a profound beauty that comes in not fighting the season but embracing it. With the dark days come the brilliant leaves.  With the wet and the damp comes the cozy.  With the darkness comes the twinkle lights and with the early bedtimes comes the snuggle times. . . hubba hubba.

I didn’t grow up like this really.  There was always sunshine even during the “cloudy” days in the land of my youth on the “other” side of the mountains.  There is truly something magical about bringing your own light, your own take, your own creative to the gray on gray on gray that brings me comfort.  I know. . . I know next thing you think I will be making my own butter and felting wool.  Not today, but soon folks, soon.

Staying grounded in the fall allows me to dream.  Demands it really.  How else does one dream except when given the gift of doing so? The autumn palate quiets the soul and helps to create space.

So here is to leaves falling, pumpkin carving and daylight waning.  Summer will come again and for now we prepare to welcome winter. Here comes the soup and the dreams of things to come.  Dream big.

Amen.