Growing up in the Midwest, I think my favorite season was autumn. Beginning in late September and continuing through early November each year, the trees shed their leaves in a most colorful fashion. The various shades and hues of green, yellow, brown, orange and flaming crimson were everywhere for the eyes to behold!
I remember taking drives in the countryside simply to take in the splendor that was autumn. Each of these short trips would be punctuated with continuous oohs and aahs. Each display would seem better than the one before. It was like immersing oneself in a make-believe wonderland.
In time, however, the colors would fade and the leaves would fall. What was once the landscape of rainbows, now became a barren landscape. The trees became naked sentinels announcing the coming of cold, blustery winter days and nights. Beyond that, spring beckoned and the cycle began anew.
When Della and I moved from the Midwest/Mid-South to Eastern Oregon in 1992, we were in for a shock when autumn rolled around. Taking up residence in the town of Pendleton, we quickly discovered that sagebrush, not trees, was the most ubiquitous plant!
With so few trees, there was no dramatic color display at all. In fact, the chief color in the high desert is tan/brown (wheat fields). In the spring and summer, the fields are a bit more golden; in the fall and winter, those same fields are a dingier hue of the same color! Consequently, from the standpoint of the eyes, it was next too impossible to discern when autumn kicked in.
Here in South Bend, autumn is different than both the Midwest and Eastern Oregon. Many of the deciduous trees begin to lose their greenness as early as mid-August! With the exception of a very few species, the leaves out here go from green to brown very quickly -- little, if any, color display at all.
Of course, the biggest difference is that we live in the Evergreen State. The majority of our trees in the Pacific Northwest are of the coniferous variety. Autumn is less about falling leaves and more about falling needles and cones! And while we certainly have our own naked sentinels standing guard to usher in winter, over 50% of our trees remain green year round.
Because I have lived in these varying locales with different climates, it has allowed me to better understand that, while each area has its own seasonal cycle, each one is unique. This same principle applies to all the various beings in our world.
We share much in commonality, but each species or each person follows their own internal rhythm. Every life runs in its own circle and, sometimes, there are circles within the circles.
This post is part of a series. For an introduction, go here.