Every year it helps. I sleep in the woods. Long deep sleeps to the sounds of crickets and bullfrogs, with the breeze rustling the tent. It helps me transition.

This time of year is hard. I long for the internal space of autumn and winter but its always so hard to let go of the big beautiful bountiful round juicy summer–the late evenings at the pool or hanging out on a porch watching fireflies and sharing wine, the spontaneous community that seems to erupt when we are all out in summertime. I am a social girl and I am drawn round the fire of summer, the stories, the laughter, the adventure.
Along the water

It is always so hard to let it go, to exhale that gorgeous summer and breath in the autumn coming round the bend. It feels like a loss, as though I lost the way and I am now somewhere else–not where I need to be. The fall always feels like a tumble.

But sleeping under the trees, it puts me right. The early dark, the migrating water birds singing their goodbyes, the leaves that are already starting to turn–it all whispers to me that this is exactly where need to be–this moment, this space. This letting go is the gift.

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