The evening sunshine is dancing across the tops of my rose bushes, a welcomed sight after so many days of rain. Blushing petals pushed by the weight of the droplets still thrust their majestic glory up into the atmosphere, refusing to subside despite the whispers that summer has slipped past us. My rocking chair is nestled in a screened in porch, overlooking a bed of roses, within which hangs a hummingbird feeder. Mornings you can find me here, sipping coffee quietly before my day roller-coasters through the hills and valleys of daily life. In the evenings, I drink in the calm of the setting sun and the first out stars, reassurance of Someone with a better plan than I. The hummingbirds are such a source of pleasure for me, I can barely contain myself in the Spring when they first show up in my yard, hungry from their journey, chattering and thin. As the summer progresses, so does their activity, and their is no shortage of one-upmanship as they vie for a position at the pump. Now they are fewer, and fattened, their bodies prepared for a migration to warmer and more bountiful climates. They more often slow to drink deeply, and pause, their wings resting quietly, as they guard carefully their energy stores. It was five years ago, sitting in this same chair, watching these birds, that I gained the inspiration I needed to pursue my own journey of leaving a large corporate group to fly solo. Like migration, it seemed innately programmed into my circadian rhythm that I too was destined to follow my own path. The day I turned in my resignation felt truly like stepping off of a cliff. As the air rushed around me, and the wind left my lungs, the story of David and Goliath repeated in my ears. I wondered if my bird bones would be strong enough to give me flight. And as the powers that be would have it in all leaps of faith, I looked around and was astonished to find I was in fact not alone at all, and my wings were in fact sturdier than I had hoped. I was surrounded by the most incredible people, buoying me up, using their skills and opportunity to shine and grow. And then came the patients, calling, stopping by, tearfully reuniting and thankful they had found us again, sharing with everyone our practice was alive and welcoming others. On October 2, 2013, our doors opened, and we have not looked back since. The most wonderful thing of all is the realization that this is not, in fact, about me or my practice, it is OUR practice. It belongs to my staff, my patients, my family, my friends, all who touch it and mold it, who count on it and benefit from it. As we begin our next five years, I give thanks to all, as we take flight on our next grand journey.