Hello Friends,

Oh, how I’ve missed you. I hope this finds you warm and safe. Here in Western Maine, autumn is beginning its gentle fade toward winter. The vibrant orange and gold of early October have softened into shades of brown and gray. Leaves crunch underfoot, the air has turned crisp, and frost greets me in the mornings. Evenings are best spent cozy beside the woodstove.

So much has happened since I last wrote. Nursing school continues—I have one more class and my preceptorship left, and if all goes well, I’ll be a registered nurse by springtime. I’ve absolutely loved being in school, even though it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Still, I’ll be glad to return to the parts of life I’ve had to pause along the way.

This past year has been one of the most transformative of my life. I began nursing school, ended a decade-long relationship, watched my youngest child leave the nest, and spent a lot of time on my own—busy with studies, but feeling a bit empty in other ways.

Winter was quiet. Spring brought a renewed desire to get out, connect, and have a little fun again. Over the summer, I visited friends and family, managed a short vacation between work and classes, and even met someone who reminded me that it’s never too late to fall in love.

The Wheel Turns and a New Year Begins

Samhain marks the beginning of the Wheel of the Year—the midpoint between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice. The veil between worlds grows thin, and we may sense the presence of those who’ve gone before us. It’s the end of the harvest season, the final Celtic fire festival, and a time that carries a deep, quiet magic.

Samhain means different things to different people. You might celebrate in solitude or gather with friends. Create a small altar to honor loved ones, hold a dumb supper, or simply light a candle and sit with your thoughts. Cook something seasonal, take a walk beneath bare trees, and notice how the world is shifting.

The leaves fall. The air cools. Nature settles into its long rest.

Darkness and winter are coming, and a stillness begins to settle over everything. Birds fly south, animals retreat to their burrows, and the land exhales—one long, deep breath, letting go of summer.

The modern world rarely pauses for such things—but you can. Take a breath. Slow down. Acknowledge this sacred turning of the Wheel, and welcome the quiet beginning of a new cycle.

From My Desk

I’m between classes right now and wanted to take this opportunity to send you a note and a little printable. I hope you enjoy it. I’ll do my best to write more often as I near the end of my program.