Inside, grumpy humans caught off guard peer out the windows at the downpour and scramble to gather their warmer clothing, heaters groaning and clicking as they burn away the last year’s dust; outside, I walk through it, head bent and eyes cast downward in mourning the sudden loss of summer, until I meet a man who excitedly tells me of his hunt for the chicken of the woods mushroom, vibrant orange, thriving best in the autumnal rains deep in the heart of the forest, and I again see the wholeness of nature. My new routine began today with enough sleep and enough space to stretch, and a new project to sink my teeth into from my chair by the window.