Deciduous

Growing up in the High Desert of the Pacific Northwest, there was a lot of brown in nature. Brown with sage, brown with yellow, brown with green, but mostly just brown. The ground was brown, the rivers were full of brown silt, the summer horizon was brown, in the winter it was white, but you knew there was all that brown underneath.

About two years ago, I moved to Portland. Well, close to Portland. And I was inundated by a plethora of greens. Soft greens, deep greens, even in the middle of the city there are trees on every corner and grassy blocks of city parks.

We learned about the leaves changing colors, and falling to the ground when they reached maturity. The Deciduous trees that created the beauty of fall, but it seemed like another world. We didn't have them in our small town, we had Juniper and Sage. Long lasting, hearty, weed-like plants that populated the dry ground, and filled the scenery for miles.

Now in Portland, I'm struck by the magic of Autumn. The slow changing from bold greens to deep oranges, bright reads, and delicate yellows. The flitters and scattering of colors as they fall in the slightest breeze. The scents of decaying leaves in the fresh rain on the sidewalks. returning their summer of nutrients to the ground in which their roots flourish through the winter.

People who have lived here or any wet environment must tire of the muckiness of the fall. The wetness, and the dreary weather we've come to expect here. But I love it. I love the first rain of the fall, stirring up the petrichor of the hot and arid summer we just had, and the early morning fog as it winds up the roads and into the neighborhoods, keeping them sleepy much later than the summer sunshine did.

For the first time in my life, I feel at home. I feel like the fall is a chance for renewal. The perfect opportunity to shed the stress and tension of the past year, and use the winter to save my energy up for the following spring. I am treelike. Firm in my roots, and strong in my protection of those who depend on me. This little acorn traveled, and found her space 200 miles from home!