This is the tree outside my window. Every year, its the first tree to start shedding, but its always the last to drop its final leaves.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm like this tree. Stubborn in my ways to complete change, hanging on to that last little bit.

“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.”

Much like fall, its time for change.