"I am sleep, I am breathing, I'm the missing of the passing seasons"

Fall (Autumn) is not just a changing of the weather for me. I’ve learned to really lean into the seasons the last few years. They have taken on a sense of deep importance. A signal and constant reminder that life is perpetually moving forward despite the direction that I feel like I might be moving. I’m finally in a physical place on earth that has seasons. In the south, it was either hot or cold (and always humid). It just always seemed uncomfortable too. I don’t attempt to separate what that meant for me mentally, spiritually or metaphorically. So there is comfort from the sudden contrast I’ve been experiencing with the seasons of Oregon. A distinct separation of the what the planet is going through at different times of the year is such a recharge for me and also a giant kick in the ass.

In reality, fall is gorgeous here. Things seem to slow down. Birds don’t seem to be in a rush anymore. They sleep in later than I do now and have already started to head for warmer weather. The sun takes its time if it even decides to show up at all each day.

The gray soft lines of bare rock and soil on the mountain have begun their annual change. Clouds come and go. They hide the mountain temporarily while they dress it in fresh snow. Those soft lines are beginning to be filled by sharp lines of dark rock highlighted in white. The mountain seems brighter even though the sun is slowly starting its retreat.

The river becomes darker each day. The water seems forever restless and unable to decide which direction it should be moving. As it churns it looks like it could swallow you whole in seconds. But somehow those cold, dark waters look inviting.

The valley begins to lose the vibrant green that has been dominating every corner of the earth here for the last several months. Clouds, fog and shadows creep in. The longest shadows I’ve ever seen. Somehow they are able to soften the sun. When the sun hangs low or is just peeking its face over the horizon the gorge and valley remind me of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Hills and peaks that seem to roll on for days and they are all slightly different shades of grey and brown. A faint reminder of my favorite landscape of the south.

Fall is so strikingly different from the summer and that scares me. I’m honestly terrified of the transition that is already happening. Looking out into the vast expanse of what is coming makes me shiver. In the same way that I do when I wake up and I forgot to close the windows before I went to bed. My fear lies in what kind of man and father I will become. Will I continue to be able to find balance and insight in my own grief? Will I lose the edge of honesty and transparency that has helped to deepen my relationships with so many? Will I continue to remain grounded in the here and now?

Summer was a time to acknowledge that I am broken. Jordan’s death stripped away everything from me. It took things from me that I thought were one hundred percent me. When the dust started to settle I found there wasn’t much left of me to stand on. But what was left was significant. It was somehow sustaining. It was/is a foundation for who I will be for the rest of my life. But the process for building a new life is slow and arduous.

I want to take what the fall gives me. I don't know what adventures and mishaps it will offer. But I do know that I want to say yes. My goal in saying yes is to remain present in each moment. In that presence, there is an increased awareness of the goodness and beauty that surrounds me.

Yesterday I ran with a coworker. The sky was void of clouds, filled with stars and the sun hadn’t even thought of peeking over the ridge yet. The air was clean and crisp. It was just cold enough to notice. I was aware of my feet hitting the pavement. I was happy and content to be doing something I do every single day and to be sharing that simple act with someone. It just felt good to be alive. I want more of that.

-Brack

Always a good time at Solera with co-workers and friends.

Parker picking and grinning.

Swiney the Elder was roasted up by a buddy for our joint birthday party.

My birthday party got wild.

My first ever hop harvest!

Playing in the creek on the last day of summer break.

The first day of school picture. 

One more try.

Parker likes to eat dinner in the backyard 

Always a good time with the Molassells.

They could all be siblings.

Benton completed his first triathlon last weekend.