The Grace of Late Summer
A Soft Turning Toward What’s Next.
Late summer has always felt like a threshold, with one foot in the warmth of long days and the other foot quietly stepping toward what's next.
There's a softness to this season. The garden is quieter this year. Some things never quite came up. I planted some things later than I initially planned to. The days linger, but the evenings whisper change. Insects sing louder. Shadows stretch longer. And something within me gently begins to loosen its grip.
At times in my life, I used to rush through this part, eager for a new season, a fresh rhythm, and a clearer sky. But now I find comfort in the waiting, unpolished, unscheduled middle.
Here, I've learned to trust, not in outcomes but in the process. The tending and the being. Grace feels most present here, not loud or sudden but steady and sure, like a hand resting quietly on one's back.
This letter is for those in transition, those who feel something shifting but don't yet have words for it, those gently dancing through the middle, not rushing to the end.
There is beauty here, too. In the almosts. In the not yet. In the gentle grace that holds it all.
Tori Nicole
Graceful Living, One Day at a Time.