At least in the northeast, the weather knows to change. It feels something in the air, and something in the ground and the sky and it adjusts. Soon, it’s not recognizable. The greens and yellows of summer are the oranges and reds of fall and soon, again, it is something entirely different.
We, too, know to change, but are often slower and more stubborn to the process. I think it has something to do with the ugly “in-between”s. The muddy, rainy, cloudy springs and the bare, cold, grey stick seasons of life. They aren’t pretty. But...they’re necessary for change.
Let’s let ourselves be ugly sometimes. Let’s find the beauty in the midst of the transformation. Let’s recognize that mud—proverbial and literal— is kind of fun and that stick season is the calm before the first glorious winter storm.