The breath of change

One year ago tonight, I wrote this text in my journal.
And actually, I can’t believe it’s been a whole year!?

31. August 2025:

Earlier tonight, just as I was about to go to bed
I remembered the laundry I had left outside.
So I stepped into the dark in my nightgown to gather it in,
but when it was done,
I didn’t want to go back indoors.

There was something in the air, calling, luring,
asking me to stay.
So I did.

And this is what I felt:

The breath of change

The Last Night of August
I step into the pitch-black night,
bare feet brushing cool grass,
my nightgown clinging in the wind.

The laundry is safe indoors,
yet something calls me back,
a hush, a lure,
the breath of change upon the air.

The wind howls through the trees,
rasping branches,
leaves whispering their secret melody,
a song half-hidden,
a promise waiting to unfold.

I push my hair behind my ears,
lift my face to the cool breeze,
its gentle hand stroking my chin.

The woods before me tremble,
as if holding back a revelation.
And I know,
she is near.

She is coming.
I welcome her,
the quiet power,
the mystery,
the turning of the wheel,
Autumn.

And when I finally went back inside,
I carried her with me,
Autumn breathing softly in my chest.