This is my wallpaper. Leaves + teal = obviously.
Leaves and their annual magic show color-change have always been a part of my life. As a child, there were leaf piles to play in and special detours down Persimmon Tree Road to see specific vibrant trees. Chris Van Allsburg captured the magic of Jack Frost in my childhood imagination. Leaves mean going back to school and travel soccer games, homecoming parties and new wool sweaters. Leaves come with the cool, crisp air that I love and provide a rainbow in nature unmatched by the other seasons. Growing up in Connecticut and Maryland, then living in New Hampshire and Massachusetts, I took the leaves for granted. Every fall I would take a little longer to drive home and relish some extra time on the windy New England back roads. I hiked up firetowers or simply walked to class amongst the colors.
Last year I somehow missed it all. Walking in the concrete jungle can be secluding. Fall came and went and then it was cold and I’d missed my chance to see the leaves. So this year I’ve been stalking the fall. Starting in September I watched their southward progression. When the marathon was on television a week or so ago I noted the leaves in Central Park were still green. Then all of a sudden the report said “Peak Color!” The sun had set before I left work each day last week, so I knew it had to be today. Today was my day to see the leaves. So today I went to Central Park and I leaf peeped in my own city. It isn’t the New Hampshire wilderness, but for this New Englander, it will suffice.
For those who truly love New England, the seasons indeed help define the person and all of those palpable childhood memories. A yard full of large deciduous trees are a wondrous sight in October, tinted some by the dozens of hours of effort spent sending the fallen leaves to their ultimate demise. Winter storms yield snow castles, and contests between neighbors as to who can push their offspring enough to keep the blackest driveway. Melting snows beget deep green lawns and open windows in July, and summers on the cape leave time to wonder if a hurricane will precede the coastal storms that are soon to come. This is a circle of life that so many will never know. Even fewer are privileged to appreciate your tip of the tam to the New Hampshire wilderness.