Jonathan Meyer.

I’m writing this on a Wednesday morning, staring out my dorm window and counting down the hours until I can pack up and head home. I love Wartburg, but there’s something about being boxed in by campus walls that makes you crave the open roads and familiar places of Tama County. Fall break is so close I can almost feel my allergies triggered by the harvest air of Tama-Toledo — and I can’t wait to be there.

Bailey certainly can’t wait either. She’ll be waiting at the door the second my car hits the driveway, her tail thumping against the wall like she’s been counting the days. There’s no welcome quite like a dog’s — especially one who doesn’t care what classes I’m taking, how my recital preparation is going, or what deadlines I’m behind on. She just knows I’m home and we can go play ball together.

In other news, this time of year has always been my favorite for running. The sidewalks are covered in a satisfying layer of crunch, perfect for running. The trees lining the back roads are bursting into oranges and reds that glow in the afternoon sun. There’s something about running through that — the mix of colors, the cool air, and a (hopefully) gentle breeze, it all feels like time slowing down.

Lately, I’ve been slowing down in other ways, too. A few friends and I started what we call a gentlemen’s nonfiction book club on campus — a small excuse to read something meaningful together that isn’t for a class. Our first pick is a book about confidence and reality, and it’s sparked some great conversations about how we see ourselves versus how the world sees us. It’s been surprisingly grounding. Reading again for the sake of curiosity — with a cup of coffee in hand as I curl up in my recliner — it all just feels right as the weather cools and the indoors turn more cozy.

And then there’s Halloween themed community events coming up. Mike and I will be making our rounds this weekend — checking out the costumes, stopping by trunk-or-treats, maybe taking a late-night walk through town to see who put up the most over-the-top decorations. It’s one of those rare weekends where time feels generous — like the world has slowed down just enough to notice the details, and all done a week before the actual day.

Coming home always feels like that: a reminder that life doesn’t have to be complicated to be full. Between the leaves, the laughter, and the comfort of a good book, fall break feels less like a vacation and more like a return to rhythm. Those are my updates and highlights

Despite everything stressful and complicated with coming home, I’m Just Jonathan.