The Living Landscape: The story of autumn
- Kathleen Scavone
- Posted On
LAKE COUNTY, Calif. – The story of autumn, that unhurried waning of the light and height of summer, is playing out now all around us.
The atmosphere of autumn may signify death and dying, with leaves falling from trees, creating the branches' bare-bones skeletal appearance of crooking their limbs akimbo.
The autumn season sometimes generates the human desire to hibernate on cold mornings.
Along with centering our attention on loss, we possess the ability to choose to focus instead on the abundance all around us.
I'm not suggesting that we forget major problems such as climate change or the devastating fires that occur year after year – that's just not in the realm of possibility.
The losses we all carry – those of losing loved ones – be they family members or friends, are, in and of themselves tremendous burdens to carry.
Holding a mentality of "Don't worry, be happy" is simply sheer denial, and I am not suggesting we disregard these realities, but instead, try to find room in our busy lives to create a focal point whenever possible toward an affirmative approach, no matter how minute.
As I watch the twirling foliage dancing down in front of me and take in the pops of Technicolor leaves piling up I wonder at the moments I've missed by being my preoccupied self.
The annual domino effect that the season has on trees is nothing short of miraculous. Sugars in the leaves which were produced during daylight and locked into the leaf-veins are now unable to budge, so they create the striking anthocyanin pigments we are annually amazed to witness.
Now traces of leaf-rot build up to enhance the senses, with a lingering tangy smell that tells us we are at the pinnacle of a season.
Another complimentary phenomenon also occurs right outside our doors. While the annual migration of hawks soaring south is waning, this free activity, that of looking to the skies, is still ours to enjoy.
Here in Lake County where we live on the Pacific Flyway, a major migratory route from Alaska to South America we are privy to not just raptors, but nearly all manner of avian species.
One species, the carrion-eating turkey vulture, gathered in numbers in south county recently.
During a lull in their feeding frenzy I took a closer look at what the vultures were consuming and was nearly knocked over by realizing it was the prize buck I had been sighting recently.
The buck's thick hindquarters had been devoured, suggesting a mountain lion had made a meal of it, then cached it prior to the gathering of vultures, flies and beetles who were now hard at work doing what they do.
I could have ranted and raved against nature at witnessing the loss of the majestic buck, but in adjusting my focal point to the reality of predator-and-prey, and all of the subsequent processes this natural event entails, I settled on my sense of wonder at all of the seen and unseen happenings in nature that occur daily with or without a witness.
Although not always to my liking, once I think about it, nature's ways with all of her beauty and ferociousness is nothing short of miraculous, and paying attention during the autumn season is something for which we can truly be grateful.
Kathleen Scavone, M.A., is a retired educator, potter, freelance writer and author of “Anderson Marsh State Historic Park: A Walking History, Prehistory, Flora, and Fauna Tour of a California State Park” and “Native Americans of Lake County.”