Fall has arrived with the vengeance of a scorned woman, showering its power upon the land in heavy doses of red and orange. Fallen leaves swirl about on the roads in meaningless patterns. There is a bite in the air that brings with it pink cheeks, windblown hair, and memories of college football. It got down to 45 degrees F last night and I had to pull the down comforter out of storage, a ritual that occurs about the same time every year.

This will be my 28th autumn. I am pleased to find that things like the changing of the seasons still provide a simple childlike pleasure, like a secret wish held close to the heart. The simple things somehow retain their value the best, brown paper packages tied up with string, whiskers on kittens, etc. It's the love and laughter of those around me which give the greatest joy.

In a short week, I will be turning 29. It's an age that I never thought that I would turn, and now that it's here, it seems to have arrived too quickly. I feel old and yet, at the same time youthful, with a hopeful eye towards the future. I have done much, seen many points of view, travelled to foreign lands, but there is much more to learn.

I am thankful for having been immature and for having experienced enough life to improve on it. Thankful for the friends who had the courage to let me make my own mistakes. And thankful for down comforters that keep me warm at night so that I can face another day.