Walk-Around – Photo: L. Weikel

Stupendous

I don’t think it’s hyperbolic for me to say that the fall foliage this year is utterly stupendous. With our rolling hills and twisty-turny back roads here in Pennsylvania, it’s not only possible but likely you’ll encounter one breathtaking scene after another.

It’s funny how our perceptions are relative. We have one field in particular that we pass on our walk-arounds (the two mile trek) that we often used to gauge the overall quality of the foliage any given year.  There used to be a magical tree in the midst of this field, and it was always more colorful, ethereal, and perfectly proportioned than any of the other trees. Sadly, I think it was about ten years ago now that that tree died.

But we still delight in the bank of trees lining the far edge of this field close to High Rocks.

With the abundance of spectacular color this year almost everywhere you look, I was a tad disappointed with the trees in ‘our spot.’ Nevertheless, while perhaps slightly muted in comparison, I still felt compelled to document their beauty. I’m glad I did – and I’m also glad I zoomed in on a few of the trees. It wasn’t until I actually paid attention to the details of the particular trees that I actually took in and appreciated the exquisite beauty right underneath my nose.

Stupendous – Photo: L. Weikel

Too Much of a Good Thing

Which makes me wonder if it really is possible to have too much of a good thing. When we lose perspective and think that every day is going to be blue skies, or when we start to take for granted the voice of the wind or the songs of crickets, the wild artistry of sunsets, or the protection of owls, we become dull. It starts to get harder for the magic to penetrate our preconceptions.

Is it possible that this might be true of our relationships, too? If we’re lucky enough to have one or two – or maybe even five or six – people in our lives with whom we can share our deepest, truest, most intimate selves and still be loved and cherished, is it possible to lose perspective? Because of our good fortune, is it possible to become dismissive? Is iwe may come to feel that that level of friendship and intimacy is far more easily obtainable than it really is?

And what if we look at those deepest friendships with more attention to the sweet and endearing details? Do they regain the vibrancy and life force that the closeup of the trees did, when I zoomed in on them?

Appreciating What We Have

I guess I’m feeling a pull to appreciate the loveliness (and love) that surrounds me. Perhaps I’ve lost sight of the utter charm of the details because I’m so profoundly fortunate in so many ways. There’s just sooooo  much goodness in the people around me I hold dear.

(T-26)