“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” – L.M. Montgomery
I intend to travel to New England in the fall someday to witness its famed fall foliage, but in the meantime I’m telling you that Wisconsin will do just fine.
The first time I visited Wisconsin was in October. It was years ago now, and while in Madison for a conference I went for an early morning run with a local, and my goodness I have traveled to spectacular locations around this world — an African safari, the Taj Mahal, a Brazilian rainforest, the Notre Dame Cathedral, even gazing at the Pacific Ocean for a dozen years while living in Malibu — but nothing I have ever seen has been more breathtaking than that morning run. As the crew from the University of Wisconsin rowed by on Lake Mendota (seemingly on cue), the sun rose on the horizon (also seemingly on cue), and we ran along trails through the blazing colors of the remarkable fall trees. That was my introduction to Wisconsin: spectacular, and unforgettable.
So it is more than a little cool to be living in Wisconsin this October, and as I walk around town and through campus at peak color, an unconscious smile appears.
How exactly does one use words to convey love to the colors of the fall? I wish I could do better.
We drove to Door County yesterday for a special immersion in the stunning display, and we turned down several unmarked side roads and found ourselves transported to new worlds. The reds and the yellows and the oranges against the bright blue sky above us unleashed a dazzling fireworks show specifically designed for the daytime. And the crunchy fallen leaves below us announced their sacrifice, beginning their transformation into shades of caramel and rust. It was a scene in nature like no other.
Maybe it’s the aging process, but I confess that I have come to fully appreciate all four seasons. And maybe it’s the specific season of life that I find myself in now, but the extraordinary autumn colors seem extra special.
I am fifty-four years old, and I cannot say that I love keeping a note on my iPhone to maintain a growing list of health conditions. And I retain enough math skills to realize that average life expectancy means that I am on the back side of this mountain called life. But I am particularly grateful and happy at this point of the journey. Can anyone else relate?
In the fall, one can look back to remember both the youthful exuberance of spring and the passionate heat of summer while looking ahead to the peaceful rest of winter. But in the fall proper, life also reveals its peak color. And it is magnificent.
“Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald
Starting to Look Up 