Amid numerous walks this year with baby girl, watching the autumn chill drain the color from the world was like watching a master painter in reverse. Each and every perfectly shaded petal faded to monochrome by the tiniest increment every day, beautiful long after full bloom just as God intended.

As I write this post, mid-November, we are still patiently awaiting the first snow of the season. There’s a persistent chill in the air and the ghoulish Halloween decorations are being replaced by cheery lights and candy canes. However, for several weeks, our neighborhood was ablaze with colors like this. It was a blessing to watch the trees rain down their fiery foliage in Indiana this season.

Sometimes, immersing ourselves in nature’s loveliness is as easy as leaning in for a closer look. As the air turns cold and the leaves rain from the trees, I’m remembering blessed summer moments like this.

Throughout our childhood my mom seeded her German roots into our lives with little phrases or terms of endearment like this one. We were her little butterflies and I hope to pass on the tradition and the title to my own kids. While out for a sunny afternoon walk, my own little schmetterling and I enjoyed chasing the butterflies.

I’m happy to report that thus far we are successfully raising an adventurous hobbit to loves to be outside treading new paths even more that we do. She is constantly crying for fresh air and sunshine and long walks under in the shire like landscapes of Northern Indiana. Thanks be to God.