Through Dark Timber

Reflections on Autumn, Grief, and Golden Time

At a favorite trailhead, I lift my old dog out for an autumn walk. She looks just as eager as ever, though her movements are slower now, less steady. Still, this is a good day.

A few years ago, she would have leapt from the car, barely contained. But everything has its cycles and seasons, and we just move through them. And no one should miss the mountai…