White Mountain National Forest, New Hampshire October 1-3, 1978

Glorious, glorious, glorious fall!  After a long drive we arrived here, in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, late in the day. The endless forest of maple, birch, fir, pine, and alder explodes in brilliant reds, oranges and yellows.  Despite the drizzling rain Dusty and I walked (well, I walked, he ran, as usual), our footsteps just a quiet rustle on a deep soft blanket of fallen leaves and pine needles, and breathed in the pine-scented air.  Glorious, glorious, glorious fall! 

The next day I awoke early as Dusty was keen to get out and check out some noises.  I was greeted by a decidedly overcast day, with rain drops falling intermittently off the leaves of the trees above my tent as the wind rattled their branches. So it was not really raining, I reasoned, and hoped for a break.  As luck would have it, within half an hour the sun was shining, so I tumbled out of the tent, had a quick breakfast and headed out for a forest hike. 

 

The lower areas of the forest here include mostly birch, alder, maple, oak and beech or elm trees (I need a tree book!) – very light and airy.  Higher up there’s more jack pine and some fir – and a few spruce.  I walked and Dusty ran, mostly in circles, on a bed of old decayed leaves, pine needles, and a fresh layer of crunchy newly-dropped leaves – a lovely multi-coloured carpet. Strewn liberally about were rocks of all sizes – including some monstrous boulders – perhaps the remains of ancient glacial activity?  We climbed for quite a while – Dusty leaping and bounding his way up, over, across, and through the underbrush, seldom sticking with ‘the trail’; and his old lady pal lugging her apparently tired (but more likely lazy) legs up the slope.  He kept turning around to make sure I was coming: clomp, clomp, clomp – “yah, I'se a'comin', I'se a'comin'!”  

 

We got to a pleasant, sunny, rock outcrop with a good view of the red-gold hills below.  Definitely a photo-op.  And an opportunity to sit and properly enjoy both sun and view. Then on to the top.  And what a top it was: great rock cliffs – a precipice, indeed – overlooking miles and miles of a brilliant, blazing landscape. “The hills are alive!”  With such incredibly bright colours.  Another photo and sun stop, this time with coffee, and a snack. As we sat in the sun I thought it is really all too wonderful, too incredible, too magical.  And I am here, now, to witness and enjoy it all.  How lucky is that?

 

The downhill walk was just as spectacular – so many colours and textures – a leafy yellow canopy against a blue-blue sky; subtly coloured lichens be-speckling rocks and trunks; shifting patterns of light and shade, rippling through the leaves of the trees as the breezes shake their branches; the colours and textures of the skins of trees, all so different, all so beautiful; the leafy colours crunching under my feet… .  I shift from one perspective to another, trying to take it all in, make lasting imprints of this place and time in my memory.

 

The day was capped by a late afternoon drive in this glorious mountain scape.  The wind in the tree-tops made their branches dance, their leaves shimmer, as they leaned out over the road. It felt like they were beckoning me on – or in – waving “hello” – “HELLO!”  And putting on such a fabulous show, dressed in their finest colours.  But wait, the leaves are dying now – perhaps they are really saying “good-bye”?  “Good-bye, this season's over, we'll sleep now for the winter… .  Good-bye, it's been grand, and we've enjoyed it, but it's time to go now… . Good-bye to all you lucky ones who migrate south and leave us here to wind, and rain, and snow… .”  Is this a message for me?  Are these trees saying “go south”? 

 

 

I passed a school-house on the edge of a small town.  Its windows were plastered with construction-paper leaves – green, orange, red and yellow. And written, in large orange letters, 'Fabulous Fall', 

FABULOUS FALL!  

It is a fabulous fall. 

And it is a joy to be here on a day like today. 

I feel both privileged, and humbled.  

I am so lucky to be here, now.  

Thank-you spirit of autumn for this glorious day! 

 

Tonight, reading Carl Jung I came across this sentence: “As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.”

 

This is, I think, as true for the individual as the human race as a whole.  ‘Kindling the light’ through experience.  “Discover Canada.  Discover Yourself.”