The nights are cool and crisp. The mornings are foggy before turning into a warm autumn day. I pass a house every day that is the perfect picture of the most wonderful time of the year.

Yes, that’s autumn. 3/5 of my family have birthdays in this season.

Thanksgiving is quickly approaching! It’s by FAR my favorite holiday. If ever you have been invited by me to this celebration please know that it is a sacred thing. {Now I’m all paranoid that suddenly my Thanksgiving tradition will erupt and explode and I’ll be left with nothing. I’ll have to start something entirely new!!!! } Okay, I guess the point is that this is the time I choose to spend with the people who are like family to me.

Back to fall.

I love the crunching sound of the brightly colored red and gold leaves as you walk down the street. I love to swoosh them as I walk. I watch the leaves fall from the tree. They don’t really fall, the wistfully glide.

It’s all very magical, really.

Every year I wonder why autumn is so very beautiful when it’s all about dying. Everything dies a beautiful death and I get to watch it. The animals burrow away, praying mantises die after laying their eggs, and all the happy birds fly south.

It’s not really dying, is it? It’s going away so that the deeper magic can work. There is stripping down of the old so that the new can burst forth in a few short months. It’s the taking away of the familiar old leaves; feeling all exposed and vulnerable. Maybe even feeling useless for a time. But inside, something deep is stirring. It goes deeper and deeper into the earth. Roots growing, searching for something to hold onto; readying itself for the oncoming storms.

Spring is exciting, too, but it’s autumn that my warms my heart. It’s autumn where it appears that all good things are going away. It’s here where we’re called to remember last spring when I first heard that bird. I flew out of my bed to the window in search of the one. It’s the one that cries out to me, “Hey, the winter is over and spring is here. I know you can’t see it, but can you feel it?” Oh, how I will miss my birds at the old house.

[insert nostalgic sigh]

I was on a photoshoot today. It wasn’t as fall-ish as I would’ve liked, though fall had nothing to do with the shoot. When, near the end of our shoot, a mushroom was pointed out to me. I laid down on that damp grass and shot the shroom. When I did that something happened in me. It was like a switch was flicked on. Maybe it’s the looking forward to the new season in hope for the fruit in the coming ones.

Or maybe it was just a magical moment.