A Leaf Peeper’s Reflection by Sara Wright

Twice a year, once in May for a few days and during the first week of October I can’t leave home because I’ll miss the next moment of spring flowering or scarlet flames.

Last week I was captivated by how the golden morning light affects each deciduous leaf. For about five days I ran inside and out all morning to feast upon the astonishing leaf color changes as the sun rose higher. ‘Fire on the Mountain’, crimson, gold, seductive sultry salmon brilliance. In and out for hours. I drove my dogs crazy. Noting the bees on the blushing hydrangea, glad for dragonflies cruising around the house. Greeting little green frog framed against his log. Breathing in the Light. Infused by all too brief moments of swamp maple’s fierce fiery splendor.

Spring stretches out her diaphanous green veil to meet the first days of summer, but fall is a different story for some. A splash of brilliance, then quite suddenly the swamp maple show is over as bare branches tangle with those in the same family who have lost their tops prematurely. The rest of the trees comprise a process that takes a couple of weeks. Every shade of gold, orange, copper, rust, sage or fading gray green is still a feast for discerning eyes.

Yesterday we were ready to take to the woods to seek the places we know that are still blazing.  

Oh yes, I may be monitoring some plants but beyond that my little dogs and I have different agendas. Their eyes and noses are glued to the forest floor as mine have been all summer. Now I am looking skywards into blue, scarlet, crimson, gold, bittersweet and lemon, the surprise of deep green leaves. My hungry eyes cannot get enough – My body is suffused in wonder.

I am never more aware that is through the land that I continue to learn who I am. To discover, to find joy, to make friends with bears, trees and their roots, to photograph astonishing flowers, to monitor the health of lichens and mosses, to uncover mycelia for hope, to seek comfort and the ‘peace of the wild things’ within and without. These experiences define a life well lived.

Last night we ended up at the Community Forest – just in time for sunset.

Then home to the harmony of coyote songs.

Everywhere I go I see too many leaves are already on the ground. Insect ridden, curled into unnatural shapes, the destructive evidence of a warming climate couldn’t be more obvious, so these few fiery maple days and the changes that occur over the rest of the month become even more precious. Capturing a moment in time that we will not see again next year is a lesson in dimming. Although hopefully the shift won’t continue to speed up. We must savor this gift while we can.

As October progresses the trees will continue to please. The lemony moose maple leaves seem translucent, while the oval leaves of witch hazel or heart shaped poplar hold to a more solid shade of gold. Sumac still blazes. Adult oak trees hang on to deep green until the last leaves fall, although young red oaks are already splashed with red on forest green. Some drooping wild cherries still clasp deep rose or lemon tipped leaves to willowy branches, but most are down. Yesterday, too many brown beech leaves covered the forested ground in places. Here, some are blotched, their diseases etching crinkled color combinations.

I walk around the house and wander through the field.  Dull orange, copper, gold and deepening rust in the foreground, behind them bare trees and a sea of pine green…

 I am listening for the next forest fragment that will call my name.