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Woke up early this morning, made coffee with cinnamon-bun creamer. Sat on the sofa and felt the chilly house begin to warm up as I watched the sun rise and read my novel. Oh, the glory of early mornings, awakening to watch the breaking of the day! Autumn is coming - I can feel it like a secret whisper on the wind - hang on, a reprieve is coming from this sweltering summer. Respite is on its way, before the skeletal fingers of winter arrive, a respite bringing with it pumpkin spice lattes and hay rides with friends, bon fires with marshmallows and sweet music offered around them, cozy scarves and mountainsides of painted trees.
Yes, I love the fall. In some ways, it feels more like a new beginning to me than the new year that January brings. I always find myself most reflective in the fall, turning inward to take stock of where I am and who I am becoming and whether or not I like it, recalibrating, and at the same time experiencing a strange draw (for an introvert like me) to be with those I cherish, to gather round large pots of soup and build tents in the living room with blankets and lots of pillows all over the floor and laugh the hours by doing nothing in particular and yet feeling at the end of the day that something magical has taken place.
These are days I love.
And I'm blogging again. Look at that. After a long summer - in which I never intended to take a break from all the friends I'd made on this blog but somehow the craziness carried me away and suddenly it's been three months since I've posted anything - here I am. Back.
And giddily happy to be here.
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