Being in mountains with colorful fall trees is, for me, one of the most beautiful experiences of the year. Of course, fall is about death and dying in nature – not being a bummer here but it is – but in the ending of a fall season there is always hope for a new season of growth and maturity. Thankfully, this is how our universe works.
Not only do I see the colors of leaves, but I can smell them, sense them falling from high up in the trees to the ground, hear them when they touch the ground sometimes, and taste the fall air that is often heavy with decay. Being in a forest – as I was yesterday – the experience of fall is a full-senses, multi-sensory experience. Along with the leaves and trees, of course, are the animals who are getting ready for winter – the squirrels storing up their last nuts, the deer running about like they do this time of year, the geese that are moving to other places, and, of course, the decline in buzzing insect population. Additionally, the summer always brings croaking frogs around here – but in the fall the nightly cacophony of amphibian harmony lessens and lessens until it completely stops in the late fall.
Somehow and to me, the colors in the trees signal what is coming. It’s like a flare launched up into the sky to tell others to be on the lookout for something. The color signals a profound change that is about to happen – a life-ending, life-beginning, temporary yet sustainable event that reflects and manifests itself, too, in who all of us are.
We are people of seasons. There is no reason why we can’t and shouldn’t look for signals in our seasons of life.