In the trailing days of summer, on the first cool swish of autumn air, I catch the exhale of my youth. The spirit of my former myself whispers of her hopes and possibilities and sighs of her solitude. She lifts my bones and blows my hair, and for a moment we nod in recognition, marveling at the turning leaves, relishing the transformation, wondering if we alone see. When I walk trails alone, I find her, my old companion, the one…