Fall is a Time of Reflection, Gratitude, and Nostalgia
Light Dancing Through the Tree Canopy
I have always enjoyed the changing seasons, but never more than over the past five years while I was caring for my mother during her journey with heart failure and vascular dementia. She and my father moved to Florida from New Haven, CT when I was five years old. Being British, she missed the changing seasons and fall colors. When we moved to North Carolina, she looked forward to the fall each year and we would drive the Blue Ridge Parkway and go to the Arboretum and to the Biltmore Estate. Even the grounds where she lived at Givens Estates had beautiful trees. This year is my first fall without her and though I am grateful for the time we shared together in this beautiful part of the country, I miss her companionship on our fall outings and the enthusiasm she always expressed.
Nothing in Nature is Perfectly Straight
My mother would always be on the lookout for unusual things, and I know she would have appreciated the curves in this tree and would immediately have understood that nothing in nature is perfectly straight and nor is our path in life. My heart breaks for her at times, since she suffered so much loss in her final years (her husband from cancer, her house from a hurricane, and part of her family due to private family issues). When she reflected on all that had been taken from her, and he own loss of autonomy, she would be sad. So I took her in nature every day and that always filled her with gratitude and lifted her spirits.
Stained Glass Fall Tree Canopy
She taught me to slow down and notice and to appreciate beauty. I have always been aware of the transitory nature of existence and impermanence, and when I was younger I used to rush everywhere and pack as much as possible into my life. My family referred to me as the Energizer Bunny, and I pretty much wore everyone out. Yet, now when I reflect on my life, I realize I was just skating on the surface. There are only so many minutes in each hour no matter what you try and accomplish and you have to make a choice between spreading yourself too thin, or really going deeply into your heart and recognizing what gives you hope, adds meaning to your life, and keeps you going. For me, it is my connection with nature and it is not a superficial one, so slowing down increases my gratitude and understanding of why I and the trees are here. The journey not the destination is what’s important, as so many have noted over the centuries. Stopping to appreciate all the sign posts of being along the way is so enriching to my life. Our destination is ultimately death, though we don’t know when or how. We also have no idea what we will ultimately accomplish in our lifetimes or which accomplishments will seem important to us and which will fall away like fall leaves after their final burst of color.
Fall Color on Our Mountain
My focus on the journey and my mother’s lessons about noticing and taking joy in each little snippet of beauty she discovered on our walks led me to make different photos this year. Instead of driving the Parkway or hiking to grand vistas to make the quintessential fall image as I used to do, I took long walks on trails by my new house and appreciated the way the sunlight would filter through the trees and illuminate patches of leaves. In contrast to the popular idiom “you can’t see the forest for the trees,” if all we do is focus on the grand vistas and big pictures, we will miss appreciating the beauty of individual leaves and the uniqueness of natural elements that call to us when we slow down and take notice. The quirks of our loved ones become endearing too.
I know my mother is in a better place, since she was suffering so much, yet I can’t help but wish she could have seen one last fall. This year has been especially beautiful and I like to think it is her light that continues to illuminate what I see and experience.
Electric Red Leaves
I will cherish and love for forever, mom, and each time I appreciate a flower, curved branch, or brightly colored leaf I will think of you. When I saw the leaves cascading through the Y of the branches in the tree in the image on the right, they looked like a reddish gold heart to me and I felt all the love we shared in the more than six decades I’ve been alive. For that I will always be grateful. I know people often say no regrets, but for all you caregivers out there any perceived past burdens fall away when your loved one is gone and from my experience what remains is the desire to have shared even more precious moments.