There is a definite chill in the air. I sure hate to admit it but summer is officially over, Mother Nature has delivered a clear message and I get it. I am pretty cold today, though I can’t complain since I still have a bunch of canning to do. I’ve added 10 more quarts of beans to the stock and will have a few more jars of salsa and pizza sauce by the end of the weekend. I love to can and I am also ready to get my kitchen and the rest of the house back in shape.

For as much as I dislike being cold, I have to say that fall is one of my favorite seasons. I love the colors and the crisp cool air. There are hints of magic and mystery all around, fostered by the full moon. One of my treasured rituals has become lighting a campfire. I start this weekend ritual around Memorial Day and it continues throughout the summer and well into the fall. I’ve been known to build a fire in the middle of winter and wrap up in a blanket just so I don’t forget the fabulous smell of wood smoke. There is something about a fire, a deep stirring occurs in my soul, its one of the most important ways I have of connecting with……………me.

Last night was especially beautiful. The moon was so bright there was no need for anything artificial. No matter how active, intense and filled my days are, I know that as soon as I see those flames the world and its problems temporarily melt away. Those flames make everything right. I know I will soon need to bring out a quilt but I’m ok with that. After a day of being on my feet, attempting to keep order and flow, guiding children, caring for pets, cooking, laundry and the other responsibilities that I’ve adopted in this role, I look forward to the respite of a campfire. I am sad to see summer go. I’ve been holding on to her with both hands, both feet and all my heart but I see that I am no match for the natural order of the seasons. I surrender to what is. I do so with my campfire ritual, tradition keeps me company.