Autumn’s Circle

Every autumn, Terry and I followed the Enchanted Circle, chasing the quiet miracle of leaves turning to fire. The world seemed to pause for us then: balanced, breathing, whole. The air was crisp with promise; the mountains shimmered in gold, and the roads curved like gentle thoughts.

We talked about everything and nothing at all. Words came easily between us, and so did the silences. Sometimes we’d fall still, afraid that even our laughter might disturb the hush of the woods. Those moments - those fragile, wordless pauses - were the ones I loved most.

For years, it was our ritual, our circle within the Circle. Until the miles grew heavy and the journey asked too much of Terry’s strength.

Now autumn has come again. I take Jolie along those familiar roads, the shorter ones, where the colors burn and fade like memories. Sometimes, I feel Terry beside me, a whisper tangled in the wind, a warmth brushing past my cheek, a soft voice reminding me that love never leaves, it only changes form.

And still, my heart aches.
I miss my best friend.