The Leaves
The leaves.
When did they get there? Three, golden and resting on the trail that I've been riding all summer. How long have I been looking up instead of down? How many hours have I passed melting the seasons together? Summer has pushed itself into Autumn.
They fall and more will follow, gradually and surely, a natural process so deliberate that you have to be paying a very specific kind of attention to notice what is happening. And maybe that's the problem, I haven't been - paying attention that is. The time inside strips the time outside from my periphery.
And yet, I am here, still grateful for every walk that finds itself to me. For the people that join me.
I want to tell you about the family vacation that stretched across two islands, with two little tents for two kids, the night that Gael walked me out to the beach to point out the Milky Way reflecting on the water.
Or about the rain coming, carrying relief and regret. Washing what needs washing, nourishing what needs nourishing.
And I'm somehow thinking of all the pairs of eyes that are reading this now, in all the places so near and far away, and all of your summer vacation stories that I so badly want to hear. You are felt.
But the truth is, this all feels rather distant as my mind rests on the fact that in just 10 days I will be getting married. We'll stand on the Oregon coast and make promises that will be both vow and recognition of what is.
I don't have the words to describe the excitement, nervousness, happiness and all the other emotions that well up inside me. Classic me, so many words, so little right ones. Some of you have been traveling with me through this newsletter for over 20 years, over miles, places, heartbreak and growth. Watching me trying to see the world, find my own space and presence in it, trying to learn to be kind and trying to find those words to share with you. Thank you for letting me try.
Luckiest man alive.
Cowabunga dude,
DJ
