I stare out the window, a thrill rippling along my spine. I can’t justify the excitement I feel, as I watch nature lower her curtain. I don’t understand why the chill air heightens an inexplicable optimism inside of me. But whatever the cause, I welcome it gladly. Like a caterpillar, I’m compelled to cocoon and prepare my soul for change. Powerful change. And by this time of year, as the seasons wind down, I’m ready.
We stand around the blazing fire at the pit out back, faith rekindles inside me, a bright burning flame to replace the embers of summer. David slips his arm around my shoulders. I feel the beat of my husband’s heart in his chest, and add that sensation to the hundreds of others for which I’m grateful. My nesting instinct goes into overdrive, and my priorities flip like flapjacks on a hot griddle. Baking, cooking, and crafts become more than pastimes, taking on an almost urgent quality. And through it all, a stronger need anchors me—an overarching desire to spend time with loved ones, to share meals and conversation. And hugs—lots of hugs. Whether family by chance or by choice, I crave to draw them near.
This quickening only happens to me during autumn, descending on my soul, as comforting as warm maple syrup. I come alive, knowing what’s ahead—another year of surprises, blessings and challenges. The adventures of the unknown are what make up life, and I smile in anticipation.But for now, we gather and share our time, our hopes and dreams for the future. And as we wait, we rest in each other’s presence, safe and warm. Expectant.