Fall in the South

October, there's just something about it. It's when you feel the winds changing. It's like the crisp air brings with it this newness to the way we see our world around us. The dry heat of summer has passed, and we can breathe again, like a really deep soul breath. We wanna stay outside longer and soak in the season for all it's worth.

The crackling of the fire at night, the hay bales of the season sitting in the field, getting ready to be put in the barn, knowing you won't see them beneath another sunset for a good while. And well, I'm here for it, all of it. The opening of the windows for the wind to blow through the house, watching the leaves fall beautifully to the ground, and that moment when you pause and let that leaf mean so much more to you than just a simple tree shedding its fall foliage.

Somehow, God uses that little leaf to say so much more. So yeah, I'm here for it. The pumpkin spice, the little harvest figurines you set out year after year that make you feel like you're in your mawmaw's house on Thanksgiving Day. The candle in the window, the cats enjoying the breeze, the buckets of pecans waiting for you on the back porch.

It's just the South in the fall. And well, I can't leave Jesus out of that, because He's the one that makes our hearts warm, even on the coldest of fall nights. So my advice, find a rocking chair or hammock, grab a good book, and just sit for a little bit. Get off the tractor a little early to sit with some sweet tea before the sun goes down for the day.

Trade in that bougie Target blanket and grab that quilt your grandma made, where she infused love into every stitch. There's a language here in the South that goes beyond the Southern drawl. It's how we know, no matter how crazy this world gets, to slow it down and not get so uppity that we can't sip our tea from a mason jar.

So this fall, you may be sitting listening to this from a cafe in New York, and while I'm not one to dismiss New York in the fall, I would say, on the inside, keep it Southern. Keep it slow and sweet. We all need a trip back to Mawmaw's house and remember what fall felt like in 1985. So come to the South.

Find a dirt road and the house with the tractor sitting in the red barn behind the house, and we'll give it to you, and we'll give you Jesus, too.

Misti Rains Kantor

Earlier reflection: Country Roads, Take Me Home... to the place I belong.

Newer reflection: Is This Your Season for Crossing Over?

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