Persephone is leaving. I feel it in the soles of my feet. I feel it like a quilt falling to the floor once upon my slumbering body during a chilly night in bed. Soon we lose the markers of summer on our cheeks and shoulders. The glow we get from heat and sun, and supple earth feeding and holding us. Soon we will put on more as the trees lose theirs. The rhythm of the earth tied to us, and us to it. 

Just slow down. She’s leaving and there’s nothing we can do to convince her to stay. Instead we collect what we can and we batten down for what must come, death and after it rebirth. Ever moving. Every coming and going. Unforgiving, but teaching. Persephone’s leaving slow, but when she’s gone it will feel sudden. She’s leaving just likes she’s left us before, I hope like me, you take a moment to take her hand and praise her for the strength she gives us. 

Appreciation looks a lot different when you slow down and give it purposefully to people, to the earth, to yourselves. What comes isn’t always peaceful, or easy, in fact it takes a lot of strength and expectation on whether we survive this. We have to be here for her on the other side, to greet her as the earth thaws. Strong, better, appreciative, ever evolving. 

Persephone is leaving and she’s now reminding us that when she comes back to us, open armed, ready, that we do not live for the absence, but for anytime we are able to have with her and appreciate her.