October. It really is glorious. Right now, this very moment, we should pause and take it all in. We almost missed it.

October changes with each week. It has a bit of a weather-induced personality disorder. It arrives unexpectedly and leaves without notice. It’s one of those months that seems to happen so fast.

We begin with lingering heat, then suddenly, usually in the last couple of weeks, the swelter breaks. Fall casts its spell, and the necessary props — pumpkin spice, mums and jack-o-lanterns — find their rightful homes. A familiar transformation moves through us and nature as the season takes hold.

This time of year is symbolic. It represents change. Few can hold it in contempt, and most can’t hold onto it long enough. For me, it resembles growth. But growth and change require attention, so it’s vital to move down my chosen path with awareness, especially this time of year.

I was walking with my wife, Shannon, this past Sunday morning at the riverwalk. Early morning rains brought a cold front and a cool 69 degrees. Falling leaves danced in their autumn prelude. It was quintessential. Habit ruled our walk, though, and we discussed everything but our surroundings. We almost missed it. Then a gust of wind blew through the butterfly garden, showering us with leaves. Nature seemed to question our intentions.

I looked up at the sky and said, “I love today. I love October.” I instantly thought, where have I been? I used to pause for these days effortlessly, but over the past few years, life has often gotten in the way.

October also represents breast cancer awareness. Shannon, a survivor, is a walking example that awareness works. She doesn’t take it for granted and works tirelessly to keep hope alive for others.

Then there’s me. Oct. 8 — I’ll never forget that day. Seven years ago, I took my last sip of alcohol. I never imagined such a beautiful life was waiting, but it was.

October also marks my parents’ wedding anniversary. My stepfather has passed, and my mother celebrates alone. I reminisce about them and what once was, and I know she does too. I hope Shannon and I never face that same fate, but life is unpredictable, so we try to make every moment count. Living in the now is a beautiful notion, though it’s often difficult.

Changes in a single month can evoke a melancholic smile. I wish life could always be surreal and unspoiled, but it isn’t. Without change there is no growth, and without growth there is no change. Life often pairs the bad with the good: cancer can lead to survival, addiction can create new life, and life will always dance with death.

But when the bad gives way to the good, we are left with reminders — merciful memories, dates or signs that hint it’s all for a reason. Life is composed of equivalent exchanges. Pain comes, but silver linings do too.

There is a tree in the red maple family called October Glory. It’s an average green tree most of the year until its leaves turn bright reddish-orange and hold on through late fall. Then they drop, leaving it bare through winter until spring. Like us, it faces changes — some beautiful, some ugly, some plain — but it keeps growing and always relishes October’s glory.

Life moves fast. It’s our job to pause, slow down and grow. Otherwise, we may look back and realize we walked right by and missed it.

Clay Bowen is a Columbus native who cooked professionally as a chef in fine dining for 12 years and appeared on the third season of Top Chef. He is also a licensed landscape horticulturist. Email him at [email protected].