October—Change can be beautiful

Recently, Karen and I spent a Sunday visiting a small farm a few miles from our home. The old red barn overlooked a property that had been transformed to include a small concert venue, food trucks, a mobile barista, and rows upon rows of “you cut” flowers. 

As I waited for my pumpkin spice latte, the first and likely only one of the season, I became engrossed with a message, written in chalk, on a board in front of the coffee trailer—“Fall is proof that change can be beautiful.” 

The calendar has flipped to October—fall has arrived. There is a slight chill in the air. The rolling kettles and moraines of Wisconsin's glacially carved Lake Country are dotted with oaks and maples slowly coming alive with color—slowly, and then all at once. Burgundy, plum, rust, and mustard paint the landscape. I find myself pausing as I take in nature’s beauty.

“Change can be beautiful,” I am reminded as I look off into the distance. Change certainly has been beautiful over the past few months as I find myself settling into a routine in Wisconsin.

For the first time I can recall, I am at peace. Gone are the stresses of my work at the hospital. Gone is the uncertainty of my next chapter. Gone is the feeling that I should be somewhere other than where I am.

I chuckle as I think about the philosophical words of the barista on this beautiful day. I smile knowing she is right—Fall had arrived. And so, finally, had I.