The Comforting Nudge of Shifting Seasons

I cross one leg over the other to keep warm, although it’s not cold outside. The subtle, but ever-present, chill brushes up against me just enough to create bumps on my arm pushing back against it. My body tries to protect me from the crisp nature of the wind while I internally long for it. 

A dainty gust picks up, touseling my hair. It doesn’t feel overbearing, but rather gentle. It’s like God is playing with my hair, releasing any stress I had prior to this moment. 

This happens occasionally on my walks with my dog. We’ll get into a groove where Otis is listening to me, and we’re walking in stride. Sometimes, my mind is elsewhere and my feet are simply moving, but once the wind entangles my hair in the sweetest motion, all is released. 

It’s a surprising sensation that could bring me to tears if I let it. Physical touch is my love language, and when it feels like God, himself, has gently ran his fingers through my hair, I feel like a child being nurtured, loved, and seen. 

I love when the seasons shift for this reason, when the cold doesn’t bite, but rather nudges for comfort. The incoming chill of autumn causes me to embrace myself while God enables nature to embrace me, too.