new seasons

There is something soothing about running in the rain.

As it was falling gently on my hair and skin this morning, I tried to soak in my familiar surroundings: the houses around my block, the very ones I used to deliver papers to; the towering pine trees that have grown with me, and the people shuffling around with rain coats and umbrellas. Along with the gentle rain, there was a crisp air that reminded me that we are entering a new season.

I find it fitting that I too am entering a new season, as I anticipate embracing my new role as a wife. Although my husband and I cannot be together right now, I am learning that I need to enjoy this slow transition between seasons in my life. I must enjoy each last moment of summer, each moment with my family: the smell of curry as I enter the house; the sight of my mother making a delicious east-indian meal; the familiar sound of my father playing his harmonica in the bathroom for extra acoustics; and the heart-felt connections with my brother and sisters. I want to savor these moments and then look forward in anticipation to the new season.

As I await my entry into my husband's country, I feel as sense of anticipation. I feel as though I am taking a sarai journey--following my husband into a new land with the resolve to not look back. What will this new land bring? Will I find kindred spirits, or bosom friends? Will my husband and I find people hungry for connection? Will we make a cozy nest for our potential family? There is something soothing about these questions, something invigorating about the unknown. So with these questions, I anticipate the new season in my life.

This morning the gentle rain is a reminder of these questions, my anticipation, and hope of a glorious new season.