Falling. Not the fall, as in hitting the ground or tripping, but the fall as in pumpkins and hayrides. I’m making Simple fall pleasures. it a verb. Like friending and adulting. Yes, falling is something I am good at. I bet you are too. It requires a certain ability to walk around and kick up leaves or sit still and sip on cider. Cool breezes and cooler morning, sweatshirts and jeans, piles and piles of leaves that I rake and never pick up. Folding flannels and planning costumes. I can do fall.

Falling on a farm is going to be new for me. I am ready. It will mean shorter days, but more colorful ones. We can celebrate the early evenings with a warm campfire and friends. The horses may need me to walk them in at night. I love the sound of leaves at their feet and sharing an apple with them when my girls get home from school. It will be important for my husband and I to talk about the weather. Conversations compliment the beauty of God’s creations. We breathe more deeply. We reflect on change. Falling.