After such a long and lovely summer, I keep telling myself I’m ready for autumn. And maybe part of me hesitates… but another part is already beginning to lean into the shift.
As the mist rises in the mornings and the sky clears to blue, you might notice how the air feels different on your skin. The mushrooms and toadstools, the heavy orchards, the warmth of the wood burning stove - each of these can be a reminder that there is richness in this season too.
Even the spiders in the bathroom, or the quiet scurry of mice seeking shelter, can be seen as signs of nature finding balance, just as you are finding your own balance between letting go of summer and stepping into autumn.
And yes, sometimes there are spider webs brushing across your face, or damp grass soaking your feet. You might allow yourself to notice the small discomforts, and then gently return to what supports you -  the soft woolly jumper, the steadiness of your own breath, the comfort of knowing you can choose how to meet the day.
So perhaps you can imagine autumn not as something to endure, but as something you can move with - a season that invites you to slow, to cosy in, to gather warmth. And even as part of you clings to the light evenings, another part of you might begin to welcome the stillness and the glow that this season brings.
And maybe, as you read these words, you can already feel yourself softening a little… ready, in your own time, to embrace autumn.