This morning, everything feels different. Well, not everything. Something and something significant. 

The last weeks have been a sequence of ups and downs. For feelings and health on the inside and temperature and weather on the outside. Bouncing forward and backward.

Lush green grass on the fields next to fiery red rose hip on bushes. Orange leaves sprinkling the forest floor while a yellow-green canopy still shaded out the midday sun. 

And suddenly in one night it becomes truly fall. The air is crispy, most leaves are on the ground, the sloe berries taste sweeter, and the heartbeat is slowing down.

The days of being twitchy, was it my bodily wisdom saying to go out to bring the last forage in, to preserve and store, before settling in with the winter season? 

My body seems to know and my mind catches up.

We pretend to be so far away from our lives with the seasons, but when we stop, breathe and listen, it’s there. Covered underneath an artificial calendar and an all year round same work schedule, we know it’s time to get our cabin ready, for it will be winter in no time. 

Time to slow down the doing. Time to switch from neon lights to candlelight. From screens to books. From fresh fruit to meat, fat and root vegetables. From dancing outside to summer tunes to moving inside to traditional tunes in pubs and living rooms. 

Time to deepen your roots before the next year starts.

I lift my head as I can hear a last flock of geese in the air above me, saying goodbye for now on their way south.