There is no doubt I adore fall.
Perhaps it was about time to witness her arrival.
The sahdes, the leaves, the light, the sounds, the scents… for me they make the perfect symphony.
Only that I’ve never witnessed the arrival of fall, like I did this year.
I traveled by a hundred years old train from a tiny town to another. Through the woods.
In the heart of thousands of trees which started turning from green to sunny yellows and coopery oranges.
This trip and return took 4 hours at a very slow pace.
So slow that it made my own thoughts slow down a bit, my senses more present.
I was looking through the old windows and I was hearing the rustling leaves from the branches that were brushing against our train.
The old leaves shedded and were left behind.
A time of slowing down, appreciating the moment, the riches I have in my life, the riches from inside my being.
A time of bountifulness and gratefulness.
I was thinking that I’ve never had a trip like this: it wasn’t the destination but the journey.
And for me this was not a cliche but the truth.
It was the trip that made me think of all that matters in life, at what empowers me, and what I need to let go.
Just like autumn lets go of old and makes space for the new.