How strange when I hear the word "autumn" everywhere, and I can only think "already?"
A year has wizzed past me, and I find it almost as surreal as when I first got here. Bewildered that this is the time I get to look back and see what I've accomplished (and in other cases not). In most cases I can't tell what I have accomplished because materially I feel it hasn't manifested. Sometimes the things I have accomplished, I overlook because I feel I could have done more or better. But all I know is that deep down I am content. The world and I are flowers that blossom slowly, and that I must accept. I came here to plant new roots and grow. A year later a shoot has emerged, so perhaps in a year more a bud. I close my first year and enter the second the same way...blueberry picking in the forest with his hand tightly holding mine, and feeling like finally the universe is on our side.