I love this shift. Both ways. In spring, we swing from indoors to outdoors, and we revel in the sun on our bare skin and the earth turning under our strong legs. I'm already looking forward to that shift, next year, after the winter.
But right now, I'm savoring its opposite: the shift from out to in, as the days shorten and the mornings crispen and the red maples on our property line begin to go from burgundy to scarlet.
Slowly, the outdoors projects will be completed or shelved-- not in an, "oh man, I should've finished this on time" way, but in a, "well, that'll be good enough" way-- the tools will be cleaned and put away, the little trees will be fenced, the leaves will be raked and hauled and piled in the garden.
Right now, I'm loving the stepping back and letting go and letting be and being content. I wrote about the feeling here, and here, and I'll probably write about it again, next year, at length. Some things are eternal. The autumn un-plug and tune-in is one of them.
How are you all feeling about the coming of fall and winter?