Autumn is a Wondrous Time

Autumn is a wondrous time. The trees come alive, ablaze with color. The leaves are suddenly free to express the beauty that they have kept inside through the rest of the year. The streets, literally, are lined with gold.

It is my favorite time of year. I love the brilliance of the reds and golds, the various shades of orange, even the rich browns that line the deciduous trees until the leaves fall. Then there is the delight of crunching through the piles of leaves on the ground. I grab handfuls and toss them into the air. I can’t help grinning as I watch them spin on their way back down. Yes, there is work to be done - raking can be quite a chore – but the joy is worth it.

Then there is the crisp air that awakens the spirit. After the heat of the summer, it is sweet to wrap up in a sweater; it’s like giving myself a hug. It is also a time of reflection. A mug of hot cider with a friend reminds me of my connection to others and the warmth that connection brings. A brisk walk leads to appreciation when I step back into my warm, welcoming home.

Living in the northeast of the US allows me to experience the fullness of the seasons. I know that lots of people prefer a consistently warmer climate; in the middle of winter I can certainly understand. But now, in the fall, I can only be grateful for this gift.

Sometimes It Takes a Tree

I don’t deliberately look for metaphors but sometimes one is directly in front of me and hard to ignore. In walking through a local wooded area, I came across a large, fallen tree. The trunk was rotted out, the roots were almost non-existent, and the branches were bare. It was obvious that it had been a tall tree full of leafy expression and expansive presence at one time. I don’t know how long it had been on its side or what caused its demise but I could still feel its energy and power. It had a place in the woods among the other trees yet it was also an individual that added something to the whole.

It’s easy to think of age as the only reason for a fallen tree; perhaps that is the most acceptable though health and circumstance often play roles in a tree’s downfall. However, its death does nothing to diminish what it had been. For a while it will be there physically for people to see and critters to use for their various purposes but one day it will be gone, its traces hidden by newer trees and plants until its being is barely a memory. But that doesn’t mean its life was worthless. It had provided much to the environment and whether or not it is remembered it will have left a lasting imprint on this earth.

And so, looking at this incredible life form, how could I not be affected? How, also, could I miss how alike all of nature is, including our own often exalted status as people? Sometimes it takes a tree to help us feel the value of being truly human.

Chipmunk Bonanza

The temperature was cooler today, a reminder of the change of seasons and what will be coming as fall turns to winter. It is time to lay in seed. We feed the birds throughout the year though it seems we also feed a host of others as well. Some of our regular other customers are squirrels, rabbits, and chipmunks. They tend to scavenge the seed that has been tossed off the feeders. The chipmunks (nicknamed munkers by our great-nephew when he was two years old) reside underneath the hose box beyond our back window and behind the arborvitae on the side of the house. They are cautious creatures generally, perhaps because they are so small, but not so much when my husband cleans out the feeders, clearing out the seeds that start to sprout. Then the munkers lose all reticence. This little one came out at just the right time for a seed bonanza. He stuffed his cheeks and ran back to his burrow. He refilled those cheeks three or four times before deciding he had enough. We watched his cheeks expand with each seed payload; obviously his mother never told him not to stuff his mouth. And that is a good thing. He was stockpiling food for the cold weather. Chipmunks hibernate during winter but will awaken several times to munch on their accumulated stash.

I tend to stockpile goods, too, in our freezer. I freeze nuts and seeds (my grandmother used to do that and I do now), flour, home baked cookies, sliced summer veggies and luscious berries. Even though I can buy my groceries at the supermarket whenever I choose, it is still a comfort having that extra supply in the background. Not so different from the munkers, I guess. It keeps a person humble.

Nature, Wherever

On our way up to visit relatives in Massachusetts, my husband and I stopped for a rest. We found a pier not far from the Bruce Museum in Connecticut and got out to stretch. I was immediately entranced. What an ideal pier – an old construction at the end of a road that was developed on both sides. It almost seemed like a small defiance, a last stand. Some people were fishing. One man was just looking at the rocks with its mounds of seaweed slowly swaying. A couple of women had a brief brown-bag picnic as they stared out to sea. The ebb and flow of the water was meditative for me and I found my breathing imitating its rhythm. So peaceful. So wonderful.

And what has that to do with my backyard, I hear you say? I have come to value all of nature and see the concept of “my backyard” in a very broad sense. Sometimes my backyard does, indeed, refer to my local surroundings but I can’t turn off my connection with such incredible diversity just because I can’t see it out my back door. Whenever I step beyond my house the natural world is there, available to charm, challenge, worry, embrace, distress, amaze, amuse, teach, delight, impress me – if I stay open to it, wherever it may be, however minimal it is.

I am glad that we had that rest, at that particular place. It wasn’t easy to access. I hope more people find it.

Hole in a Tree

One lazy day, my husband and I were in a mood to go into the less developed areas around our town. He knew of a local lake that might be the perfect place to spend some time so off we went. And sure enough, it was a soothing spot at which to refresh our spirits.

In browsing around the lake, I found this tree with a hole in its trunk. Ah, what a prompt to the imagination. Who lives in there? What will I find if I look down into the blackness? What if there is a rainbow inside the trunk or a bustling city of tiny people? What if someone hid a treasure map there that would lead to uncovering the riches of a lost civilization – right in the heart of the forest? I was having an “Alice down the rabbit hole” moment as I thought about what might be in such a place.

Of course there were other considerations of a more practical nature. Is the tree a willing host or is it in trouble? Is the hole a sign of rot or of an active occupant? Why did it start and how deep does it go?

I know I can find the scientific answers but sometimes it is more satisfying to ponder, at least for a while, the questions and the possibilities no matter how fanciful, to let the creative juices flow. Sort of like what we do every day but tend to forget that we blend the scientific with the creative as we go about our lives.

Mushrooms are Beautiful but Watch Out!

I found these mushrooms growing in the middle of my neighbor’s grass. When plants and lawns all around have been withering from lack of rain, these guys seem to be thriving. It surprised me. I thought mushrooms, being fungi, needed dampness and shade to flourish; these had neither and were doing just fine.

My father-in-law used to identify mushrooms and actually eat them from the field near his vacation cabin in Massachusetts. That always scared me and not without cause. Many mushrooms are poisonous. The giant puffball mushrooms are considered safe, I understand, but are these those? “Wildman” Steve Brill says you need to be 100% sure of the mushroom you are about to eat. Eat the wrong one and you can find yourself with anything from a slight tummy ache to what the drug ads call a “fatal incident.”

They are interesting, though, and come in a large variety. Maybe the ones I have been seeing are the “skull-shaped puffballs,” which only refers to the way it grows not to any lethal qualities. Mushroom identification can be enticing. There are mushroom clubs and tours and identification courses and videos and books and…If you are serious about checking out mushrooms, here are a couple of sites to get you started:
http://www.mushroomthejournal.com/index.html
http://www.wildmanstevebrill.com/

I wouldn’t trust myself to correctly identify the safe from the dangerous mushrooms, at least not yet, so I think I’ll continue to buy mine at the market. But that doesn’t mean I am immune to their beauty, in all their unique shapes, colors, and sizes.

The Acorns are Ready

There is a forty-year-old oak tree in front of my house. Its limbs spread out to create shade on these hot summer days and it is most appreciated. Sometimes I park my car under its branches instead of on the steamy driveway.

I feel the strength of this tree as it rises straight up, its roots extending deep into the earth and balancing outward at the same time. I imagine the yoga pose aptly named Tree pose was fashioned after the oak. It is also a compassionate tree that welcomes nests in the spring and a nurturing one as summer comes to an end; it is prolific with its seeds. There are acorns everywhere! Squirrels rush about burying them in preparation for the long winter ahead. My car crunches acorns whenever I pull out of my driveway. I imagine that helps break the hard shells and makes it easier to eat. The neighborhood kids exercise their throwing arms as they toss acorns down the street.

I gather some of them in a basket for a centerpiece. I love to look at their perfect form and think about how new oaks are hiding inside each one. There are so many from this one tree. Should the earth ever need to repopulate its oak forests, the acorns are ready.