Autumn has a way of reminding us that even the most beautiful seasons carry a little sadness. 🍂
The light softens, diminishing a few moments every day, and we feel that small ache of change in the air. Mornings turn crisp, evenings stretch earlier into shadow, and nature quietly begins its long exhale. Yet, despite the melancholy, autumn remains a favorite season for so many of us. There’s something about its tender honesty—the way it admits that beauty can exist right alongside impermanence—that feels both grounding and true.
In Merivelle, the leaves gather in gentle piles along the sidewalks, and the scent of wood smoke drifts through town. Dogs like Bear or Hugo still chase their toys through the fading light, their joy unbothered by the coming chill. Watching them, it’s hard not to smile—and hard not to think of the dogs we’ve loved and lost, the ones whose pawprints still mark the paths of our hearts.
A dog’s life, much like the turning of the seasons, feels achingly short. They arrive in spring—bright-eyed and full of newness—and by autumn, they’ve become our constants, our quiet teachers. Through them we learn devotion, patience, and how to find wonder in the ordinary. And when the time comes to let go, we realize what autumn already knows: love never truly leaves. It simply changes form.
Every year, when the leaves begin to fall, I’m reminded that letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It means trusting in the rhythm of return. The trees will bud again. The sun will linger again. And in their own way, our dogs find us again—sometimes in dreams, sometimes in the soft brush of fur caught on an old sweater, sometimes in a breeze that feels strangely familiar.
This season invites us to lean in and listen to those moments. To slow down long enough to feel what’s stirring beneath the surface of our days. Maybe that’s why we look forward to autumn even with its ache. It holds both the sorrow and the promise—the ending and the beginning—woven together so gently that we can almost believe they’re one and the same.
As the daylight shortens and the evenings cool, I find comfort in thinking that somewhere beyond the Rainbow Bridge, the dogs who’ve loved us are watching the same sunset, their hearts as full as ours. Perhaps that’s what the golden glow of autumn really is: the light of every soul we’ve ever loved, shining back through the thinning veil.
So here’s to the season of soft light and open hearts. To long walks down leaf-covered paths. To the quiet moments when we remember—and to the faith that love, like the seasons, always finds its way back. Because the lesson of autumn is this:
The ending is never the end. It’s simply a pause before we see them again one day. 💛
If this story spoke to your heart, you’ll find its spirit living inside It’s a Wonderful Dog—a four-book series set in the small Kansas town of Merivelle, where one remarkable dog changes lives, one season at a time.
Meet Bear Bailey, the Great Pyrenees whose journey reminds us that courage, community, and love are never lost—just transformed. Begin your journey through the seasons today:
👉 Read the It’s a Wonderful Dog series
Because in Merivelle, we believe the ending is never really the end. 🍂🐾
© 2023 | Keri Salas | [email protected]
