Seasons

Sometimes I say that there seem to be two seaons here, summer and winter. Or in my more negative moments, I say the two seasons are too hot and too cold. But I think we do actually have spring and fall, I think they are just short. As I experience them, the seasons where I currently live go something like this:

• Samhuinn to Spring Equinox: winter (5 months)
• Spring Equinox to Memorial Day: spring (2 months)
• Memorial Day to Fall Equinox: summer (4 months)
• Fall Equinox to Samhuinn: fall (1 month)

Perseverance of the maple

Something I read about sugar maples in An Eclectic Guide to Trees East of the Rockies by Glen Blouin:

Under the forest canopy, seeds germinate with as little as 2% sunlight, frequently carpeting the forest floor with seedlings. Some die because they have landed on a poor microsite; others are nibbled by mice, rabbits, and deer; but many survive, growing very slowly but otherwise healthy, patiently waiting for a clearing above so they can take advantage of the sunlight. When an older tree dies or is cut down, young maples seize the opportunity to fill the void.

To me this is about adversity, perserverance, and hope. The maple seedling does not give up. It does not get indignant that it faces adversity. It simply grows to the best of its ability, and waits for way to open.

Community gathering and wonder

For the past few weeks, I have been blessed with good health, so I went out twice. (I mean, usually I go out to work and grocery shopping, but when I'm not feeling well, I don't want to go places any more than I have to.)

First, I attended a meeting of a simple living group. They meet once a month. At each meeting, they have a speaker on a topic of interest, and a discussion. I liked being amongst people who share my values within my community. I'm accustomed to interacting with people who share my values on the internet, and reading books by people who share my values, but it's something else to be physically in a community. In the discussion, the comment that resonated with me most was about how the politicians talk about growing the economy, no one is talking about reducing consumption.

The other event that I went to was an organ concert. Many cities and towns in my area have one Friday or Saturday evening a month designated as "art night" or a "night out." Tonight was such a night in my town. The organ concert was part of that. It was short, because it was meant to be just one stop as people wander around the downtown. It was put on by a church. I think the people running it were associated with the church, and that the audience was a mix of people from the church and people not from the church.

The audience included people of all ages. There was a little girl (daughter of the organist) who would start crawling away, and the mother would call to her, and then the girl would come back. I was impressed that a child so little that she is crawling would come when called. Before the concert started, when the organist appeared in the organ loft, one of his older kids said from the pews, loud enough for all to hear, "Hi Daddy!"

There were some people dressed in Halloween costumes greeting people as we entered. Up front, there were candles and some of the fake spiderweb stuff people use for Halloween decorations. Also in the front, unobtrusively tucked between two columns, was a skull-like head. Near the end of the last song, a figure appeared. There was a head that was like the skull of a monster, with orange eyes, and the body was draped in sheets. This figure was suspended on a line, and had been mostly unnoticed in the back of the room, but at a particular time during the performance, the figure slid forward along the line to the front of the room.

What struck me was that people put themselves into creating this experience, into the costumes, decorations, and suspended figure. They did this to enhance our experience of the concert. It's beautiful when a community creates something in this way. That's the life I want. I don't want to be shut away in my apartment glued to a computer screen. I want to be a part of my community.

I wrote that the suspended figure had been "mostly unnoticed." The little boy in front of me, who was maybe 8 or 9, noticed it partway through the show. I saw him pointing to the back of the room, and I could tell that what he saw appeared wondrous to him, but I did not turn to look. I heeded the advice of his mother, who advised him not to draw attention, because it would spoil the surprise for other people.

At the front of the room, there was a screen, on which there was a projection of the organist playing. Normally, you just see the back of the organist, and don't see the keyboard, but the screen allowed us to see the keyboard and the organist's hands playing. Before the concert started, on the screen they showed a video clip from Phantom of the Opera. When the little boy in front of me arrived, he wanted to be sure that he was sitting in a way that he could see the screen. To me, the screen was slightly interesting, but not something it was essential to see. Seeing this boy reminded me to view the world with wonder.

Between songs, the organist introduced someone whom he said was going to make an announcement about chocolate. She told us that they had little squares of fair trade chocolate for all of us, and that the chocolate came with a card about why to choose fair trade, about the child labor sometimes used in producing chocolate, and that sort of thing. I thought that was lovely -- that the church used the concert as an opportunity to share their concern for others, that the concern for others was presented in the form of giving chocolate, and that giving chocolate was so fitting for a Halloween themed concert.

I hope my health continues, so that I can continue to be a part of my community. I want to support the people who make the effort to put these things together.

Wind

When I was a kid, I thought that wind was caused by the trees waving their arms. I still think of that sometimes when I see the tree branches thrashing in the wind.

Flying leaves

It was so windy, the leaves did not fall downward. Instead, they flew across the sky toward the east for many yards before they finally found their destination and started moving downwards. Trees stay rooted, but leaves soar through the air.

Autumn colors

Autumn has so many beautiful shades. The one below, a shifting, shimmering mix of browns and oranges, is a color I think of as "my color." If I could, I'd wear clothes in this color. I have some clothes sort of like this, but the trees create the color better than fabrics do I think. This color is most often found in oaks and Norway maple cultivars.

I also like the colors of the sugar maples in autumn. Now, they are a bit past their peak, but a week ago, they were exquisite.

I appreciate Norway maples in autumn because they keep the summer green which I love longer than some other trees. Below, we get the best of both worlds: the autumn brilliance of a sugar maple with the summer green of a Norway maple.


Like sugar maples, red maples are beautiful in their brilliance.

Sycamore's leaves are not brilliant in fall, but sycamore's branches curve gracefully all year round. Sycamore is a role model for maintaining poise and grace even as youthfulness (or leaves) drops away.

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Overbearing

I grew up Quaker, so I've always believed in looking for "that of God in everyone." Ideally, I'd like to look upon all with love. In practice, I can't stand overbearing people, slick people, people who don't listen. But if I was a tree, I wouldn't mind. I would just stand there serenely, solidly rooted, with beautiful green leaves dancing with the wind. Next time I encounter an overbearing person, maybe I can remember to be a tree.