Fall in Maine is rife with change. It’s all around us, everywhere you turn. It’s whispering to me through the trees on my afternoon runs- I can feel the leaves crunching, changing yellow orange red with every stride.
It nips at the river during our morning breakfast ritual. It sweeps great heaps of mist off the surface, sending us shivers and the ducks southbound.
Again- change begets change. We feel it stir something deep in us, too. We’re hunkering down and thinking through future plans, instead of going out and exploring. We’re heading to bed earlier and getting up later. We’re reaching for sweet potatoes and rutabagas instead of fresh summer greens.