I’m feeling nostalgic tonight. I think it’s because of the whiff of autumn air I caught on the walk home from work. Fall always reminds me of childhood: campfires and marshmallows on sticks, lying under the stars, cuddling under blankets, apple orchards and pumpkin pie and warm cider, hay rides and baseball games and windbreakers and fireworks.
There were moments this summer when I thought I might melt. But it seems I’ve made it through.
I’ve made it through to Fall. The time of change and new beginnings. Turning leaves and new colors.
Even as I think of home, of rambling conversations while lying upside-down on couches, of huge family feasts and spontaneous games of Scategories, of loving insults and late night movies and playing basketball on the driveway in the dark, I also think of the future. I think of Busan, my future home, and what this next season may bring. It’s hard for me to imagine tangible things, but I can think of a few: walks on beaches, long conversations, new friendships, and lots of laughter. I anticipate my team’s little trip down there this weekend (which will be my first visit ever!), and I ponder.
The details may be different, but there is something essential that will feel the same. I think it will.