Dear Summer, 

You cracked me wide open and showed me how to grow. How to make scary decisions with grace and allow myself to explore what full self expression may look like. Gratitude poured out of me in the last week of August as I submerged my body in the salty water of the Maine coastline, sipped coffee with dear friends early in the morning and picked wild flowers along the paths. Each evening the sun would set in all its glory and I'd wake to the sound of waves, witnessing it rise, and catch the light, dancing through the house. Maine was the perfect place to celebrate our last days of summer and bid it farewell. Maine seems to always be the perfect place. We journeyed to flower farms and lobster trucks to soak in all the best parts of New England. We filled our pockets with foraged shells from the sandy beaches and ate ice cream cones as big as our heads. We bundled up at night to drink wine under the stars and listen to the creatures beyond the porch.  What a way to reflect on a passing season and the new paths that are being illuminated ahead. I will miss summer for all the growth it brings both in the garden and within ourselves, but as we turn our attention to the fall season ahead I feel myself quieting and preparing for a different type of growth. One with a slower, steadier pace.

Farewell Summer, 

Sierra