“All is grace.”
-St. Therese of Lisieux
When I called Montana and Ontario home, the coming of fall meant bright summer days yielded to warm fall colors, sandals found themselves abandoned in the closet, exchanged for boots. I left a sweater and socks beside my bed at night and pulled them on before stumbling to the kitchen for coffee, as cold mornings and I do not get along. I dreaded the impending shift to winter while being utterly captivated by fall.
In Texas fall sneaks in with noticeably less grandeur, as the heat only cools to warm. Texas as home, though, has only changed the way I love fall. Fall means running shifts from nearly intolerable to enjoyable, and the miles s t r e t c h easily under my feet. I run the whole year to be ready for running in the fall.
Fall means travel North to see several sets of friends who have become like family to me as I’ve been privileged to document their changing lives photographically.
Fall means things get crazy with photography, weekends stacked on weekends of meeting clients and sharing their lives and helping them remember right now tomorrow. And then Thanksgiving comes, and Thanksgiving is the best day to be a kid in my family. We love Thanksgiving. We have much to be thankful for.
I guess I am writing all these words to say I am anticipating fall. It’s been quite a year. So much changed in the first half of the year that the summer passed in a blur of trips that provided time to sort out what life looks like now. It’s always seems like revelation to realize the steady Presence of grace occurs as rhythmically as the coming and going of the seasons, and each year wraps back around to fall time and again and it’s a time of year to be utterly captivated by life and all that it has to offer. That anticipation of the return of fall, I guess, is a hope and prayer- one part knowing and one part mystery- that all is grace.