Small Piece of Heaven

There is a tree not too far from my home that’s the first to turn fiery red before all the others. For years it always has anticipated the colder days that creep in. Though it’s strange to see it turn color in late September when there are still days in the 80’s. That tree is too eager.



I like autumn. I like it because the swamp humidity of summer finally abates. The humidity can be so thick that all night long, the skies bloom with a pinkish orange glow from the thousands of street lights here. With fall, the skies clear and the stars can show through. A real black sky for once.


I’m not the type to go on foliage tours but I can be sometimes awed by the splash of color some trees have while driving around. The closest I’ve "toured" may be the woods that begin in earnest on the Massachusetts border about a mile away from here. I used to go off into the woods by myself chiefly to avoid humanity, and then I’d notice the colors of the trees. Yes, I do have an on gain/off again misanthropic steak in me! Jean Paul Satre once said, “Other people, are Hell.” Boy, he is right!


If you’ve spent anytime by yourself in the woods you cannot be entertained or distracted by cell phones, texting, radios or anything else for that matter. You are left to your own devices to busy yourself, and usually that’s your own thoughts. Your day to day life teaches you to discount the trees, fields, streams and other things in nature that have NO bearing on your attempts to make a living, or get to the dentist. But stand away from that busyness, and you’ll notice your brain will fill itself up with that need to be occupied by looking around you at the details of the woods.


It’s nice really, just being concerned about the trails, oak and the startling quacking of ducks tucked away in some impenetrable stand of cat tails. Oh, and then there is the fiery foliage. After an hour or more you forget your hustling city life.


When I’ve had enough (more likely: I have to get back) another thing will happen. As I walk back to my home, I’ll hear the rising commotion of the city as I approach it. The highway, traffic and the bustle of “getting it done yesterday” remind me I’m still part of society and there are things I have to get done.