I woke up the other day to take Whitey out for our morning walk, and I knew autumn was here. Of course the temperature for the past month affirmed that it was truly autumn, but for the first time last week I felt it. The street silent, except for puppy paws crunching through some orange leaves, I realized that the smell of the air reminded me of a Rentscher tradition: the Halloween candlelight hike at Harrington beach. When we were kids, Mom and Dad would bundle up the Rentscher girls, and the Rentscher dogs, and we would head to Harrington Beach Park along Lake Michigan for their annual Halloween night walk. The forest trail was lit by nothing other than milk jugs with tea lights, and the air was crisp and chilly. I remember the dogs paving the trail ahead of us, and Dad’s maniacal laugh trying to spook us as we walked along, probably telling a scary story or two. Although it was dark and the trail led us to no place in particular, we never complained and looked forward to it every year.

I know that I should be prepping for my seminar presentation tomorrow, but I keep coming back to the smell of damp leaves nestled underneath our feet as we crept alongside the dark quarry only lit by those small lights and a bright moon above us. It’s times like these that I am so thankful that my parents helped create memories like this. Because I'd much rather associate wet leaves with a Rentscher tradition, than painfully remembering that winter is on its way. I hope someday to recreate these memories for my family too, paws and all.