Fall is here.
Or Autumn if you’re fancy.
It always happens over night. It was hot, then we were on fire, then it rained and my dogwood gave up the fight and dropped its leaves. According to the local paper, the first “fall” storm moved in yesterday and I felt like our house was positioned at the bottom of a waterfall (one of the impressive ones like Multnomah or Niagra… not a quiet, peaceful cascade through a beautiful forest setting). The sun has broken through today, however, and other trees are starting to look like it’s time to give up the ghost and take the all-too-short journey from green to yellow to orange to brown.
It’s my favorite time of year. It always has been. Growing up in Texas was less spectacular as far as scenery went (I don’t recall trees turning orange there… just green to brown but I could be wrong). However, the temperature dropped this time of year and it was tolerable to be outside once again. My time in Arkansas taught me to love the change in colors. It was around every corner. Moving to Oregon has only further emphasized that. It’s dramatic here as some trees change, brightening our world with golden hues and other trees stand tall, sticking to their green as early fall mornings lend to patches of fog weaving its way through their soaring tops.
In Oregon, specifically just outside of Portland where I am, we have agriculture, tons and tons of it. Fall brings on the late season harvest. Apples… pumpkins… grapes… while so many are prepping to hunker down and get cozy, Oregonians are adventuring out to pumpkin patches, apple orchards, cider houses, and wineries to get a glimpse of the beginning of the Pinot Noir making process. We aren’t getting ready to close the door on the year here, but just getting the process for a great fall/winter going.
It’s part of the charm of living out here.
Summer came and went without much fanfare. COVID sent us all home when we were still running the heater and we’re almost there again. If I blink, it will be summer again so I’m attempting that whole “being intentional” thing so many people talk about online. Sure, things are different. If COVID doesn’t keep us close to home, the job search certainly does. So how does one celebrate the season when celebrating used to be brewery hoping during fresh hop season or hitting up our favorite restaurant because their entire menu is featuring APPLES (and that favorite restaurant is still closed)? Actually, it’s less of a question and more of a lead in.
More time spent at home has allowed me to be fully involved with the changing of seasons at our house. I no longer have to rush home after work to catch a glimpse of the vibrant sugar maples lining a nearby street before they drop their leaves… I can do that at any point. There is joy to be found in that. Things will change and I won’t have that option anymore, so I should take advantage of it while it’s here. Look for a job… look for trees… get cozy with a pot of beans and a good record on the turntable… sounds like a nice fall day to me.
IdyllHands 