The Colors are Calling

For the last week and a half, I’ve been watching the mountains around me transform. From my place in the valley, I see them blazing with fiery oranges, golden yellows, and deep pumpkin hues—a grand performance by Mother Nature herself. I know those colors will soon trickle down to where I stand, but something happens in the descent. The brilliance seems softer here, as if the mountain has already given away its most passionate burst of light.

And still, I feel their pull. It’s a tug I can’t quite explain, like voices carried on the wind. I can’t make out the words, but I know they are meant for me. I realized recently that I didn’t make it into the mountains this summer the way I had hoped. And now here we are—autumn. How does it slip in so quickly? Yet just the memory brings me back: the smell of damp leaves underfoot, the earthy sweetness of summer letting go, the sound of leaves whispering change into the air.

Maybe that’s what I’m really drawn to—the remembering, the longing, the yearning for change. Fall always feels like a season of exploration. Exploring what was. Exploring what is. Exploring what might be. It’s a time to ask: What still serves me? What can I release back to the universe so I can grow into who I am becoming?

What about you—what are you being called to explore or let go of this season?