Nothing is as Constant as Change
When I was small, I loved the damp air and warm colors of fall. It felt like the start of this season was a gateway of sorts to a long, dark and scary tunnel in the forest—its entrance shimmering in brilliance with red and yellow leaves slowly dimming to orange, mimicking the energetic glow of every sunrise and sunset they witnessed in the previous months, before sacrificing themselves to the ground to nourish the soil. We picked mushrooms from that soil every year, discovering yellow gold under the trees; just a tiny glimpse of their fluted heads peeking out from the moss. We harvested big baskets full of chanterelles and you could taste their flavor by the dense aroma in the air; the same scent filling our kitchen with treasures from the woods once we arrived home.
Although I thoroughly enjoyed the beauty of this natural transition, for years I feared the darkness that comes along with it. To face the monochromatic tones of cold October and lonely November until the coziness of Christmas December and the sun’s about face at a snail’s pace was torture. I longed for a never-ending summer. Until I finally learned to embrace the shadows and dive into the creativity masked within the change. I recognized fall as a time for ideas to flow, like writing, cooking, baking and foraging in the gray and murky chill. A time to embrace small, imaginative outdoor adventures, like bathing in the ocean, even though it’s pitch black and ice cold or taking a long walk in nature decked out in rain gear during a forecasted downpour. I managed to find beauty in the chaos of transformation before the earth became covered in calming white snow.
With the Fall Journal, I want to give you some ideas for what to do when you find yourself knocking on Fall’s door. Delicious recipes with seasonal tastes to experiment with, mending clothes to revive your wardrobe, and also more usual projects, like fermenting jars of roots and making a healthy Apple Vinegar with leftover apples.
I hope you enjoy finding your way in the darkness of the season.
Buy the Fall Journal here
