Thanks for reading, Steve. I did indeed check. 😀 Always do. My approach on ticks is to not let them interfere with my ways outside -- and to methodically verify their absence once I'm done being out there.
You are such a gift. You, sharing this view of life, your view. Reminding me we are part of a community that finds sanctuary in nature. I awoke today just after midnight with severe vertigo. I can't make it to the woods right now, but your essay took its place. Thank you. This shall pass and the woods will endure.
Let's hope you recapture your balance -- being outside will help! (I've made a mess of my knee, but fortunately I need not go far to be in the woods here.)
Softly, softly... Once when my grandsons (twins) were about a year old, I took them for a stroller walk down a wooded road. Golden leaves were starting to fall. One boy was asleep, but the other had eyes wide in awe and delight. Each leaf was a gift, as is this memory, and your essay.
A beautifully woven tale, my friend, full of thoughtful affirmations and subtle, live and let live coaching. I like the world through the nuance of your eyes. Thank you.🙏
How very wonderful it is to be part of a mutual admiration society with members as generous as you. You're a rare soul, Bryan, and I'm lucky to know you.
Thank you, my friend, for once again helping to keep us centered on what is true. As I sit typing this out the window back-lighted by the morning sun are hundreds and hundreds of insects, yet another reminder that all summer long Earth has been soaking up the energy of the sun and life has grown into more that will become "trickle down" stuff for next year.
Oh, gosh -- think of the images of yours that might go with posts like these! I'm warmed enough by the mere notion of them. Then I even get to see you in person in our beloved city. How fortunate we are! Thanks, John!
I also wanted to share a delightful falling leaf story: the small, bright yellow leaves of a Honey Locust are now coming down. The tree is also heavily infested, as many are this past year, with a caterpillar and their nests. What's fun is to find the many leaves caught in a 10-15' long strand of web just moving in any small breeze that comes along.
The other day, when it was so still in the woods, I watched a single cherry leaf, dangling from a spider web strand, twisting in the wind -- the only thing moving in the forest.
Beautiful, Bryan, thank you. Like many of your essays, this one deepens my thinking and settles my anxieties at the same time.
Your noticing leaves falling shift sounds a lot like my shift to lying on riverbanks letting all the sounds and sensories wash over me for a couple of hours and doing literally nothing else. A few aspen and cottonwood leaves fall, and of course the larches (tamaracks) turning yellow, which is always one of my favorite sights in autumn.
I love thinking about the combined weight of that leaf blanket across our forests. Just imagine what the weight of it must have been like 500 or 10,000 years ago…
Yes - we have in many ways terraformed this planet into a big farm for us humans ... but those leaves blanketing the forest floor as they have for millions of years let me know that wild nature is still alive.
An extraordinary post , Bryan. If only everyone would want to take a moment to listen closely and hear the whoosh of falling leaves. Probably better left unsaid, but I will say anyways. Many would not feel or see the magic even if ,for just one moment, they took a look.
“I don’t see anything special…” says an onlooker. And so on and so on.
Back to the magic; Here in the NEK , the cloud bank raised, the grand finale begins. The trees point their branches , the wind enters from the north, the leaves begin to dance. Every day now, I give a standing ovation👏👏 Encore, I whisper. The fog rises from the lake in the morning and the show begins again. Tickets are going fast, but there are a few seats still available.
(DM me if you are traveling up this way, and would like to know where the ‘best shows’ are located.I’m at Crystal happy to share).
Probably peak up there now -- or just past? No matter what, however, no matter how much Vermonters might like to nitpick or debate about it, the foliage is ALWAYS great!
John McPhee you are not Bryan, but geez after this brilliant essay I'd say you are neck and neck with Big John. I can't wait now to get out there and just simply watch and listen to the leaves falling . Thank You! Also, I am tickled how you have commandeered that ancient Reagan-era "trickle down" nonsense and given us all a new meaning for that once odious expression.
Well, Chloe, what a lovely note. Thanks. You've made my day. And even before dawn here in the U.S., it had already been wonderful day so far because I arise every morning and know that I share a planet with Chloe Hope.
I love the details you shared about leaves falling - one leaf landing on another still attached to the tree or a caterpillar riding a leaf to the ground - just reading about your experience was calming.
This is lovely Bryan. I like how you weave in the election. Nicely done. BTW, did you check yourself for ticks after sitting down. 😀
Thanks for reading, Steve. I did indeed check. 😀 Always do. My approach on ticks is to not let them interfere with my ways outside -- and to methodically verify their absence once I'm done being out there.
Me too!
You are such a gift. You, sharing this view of life, your view. Reminding me we are part of a community that finds sanctuary in nature. I awoke today just after midnight with severe vertigo. I can't make it to the woods right now, but your essay took its place. Thank you. This shall pass and the woods will endure.
Let's hope you recapture your balance -- being outside will help! (I've made a mess of my knee, but fortunately I need not go far to be in the woods here.)
Same here. Quabbin woods are just outside my door! Thanks
Thank you, Bryan. Headed to my sit spot now. Your writing brings such comfort.
Sending you grace for what falls to earth around you there. Thanks, Kate.
Softly, softly... Once when my grandsons (twins) were about a year old, I took them for a stroller walk down a wooded road. Golden leaves were starting to fall. One boy was asleep, but the other had eyes wide in awe and delight. Each leaf was a gift, as is this memory, and your essay.
Lovely, Sue. Each leaf a gift, indeed. (I myself might have been the twin asleep -- I do like to nap in the woods. 😀)
A beautifully woven tale, my friend, full of thoughtful affirmations and subtle, live and let live coaching. I like the world through the nuance of your eyes. Thank you.🙏
You, my friend, are my among my heroes and my inspirations.
How very wonderful it is to be part of a mutual admiration society with members as generous as you. You're a rare soul, Bryan, and I'm lucky to know you.
Thank you, my friend, for once again helping to keep us centered on what is true. As I sit typing this out the window back-lighted by the morning sun are hundreds and hundreds of insects, yet another reminder that all summer long Earth has been soaking up the energy of the sun and life has grown into more that will become "trickle down" stuff for next year.
Oh, gosh -- think of the images of yours that might go with posts like these! I'm warmed enough by the mere notion of them. Then I even get to see you in person in our beloved city. How fortunate we are! Thanks, John!
I also wanted to share a delightful falling leaf story: the small, bright yellow leaves of a Honey Locust are now coming down. The tree is also heavily infested, as many are this past year, with a caterpillar and their nests. What's fun is to find the many leaves caught in a 10-15' long strand of web just moving in any small breeze that comes along.
The other day, when it was so still in the woods, I watched a single cherry leaf, dangling from a spider web strand, twisting in the wind -- the only thing moving in the forest.
Oh YES! I love these sorts of little moments. Such a privilege to be part of them.
Missed you on Monhegan, but nice to visit with Ruth and Oden. Your falling leaves is a lovely essay and I do hope you put in that one vote.
I really, really, REALLY missed you all! Next year!
Beautiful, Bryan, thank you. Like many of your essays, this one deepens my thinking and settles my anxieties at the same time.
Your noticing leaves falling shift sounds a lot like my shift to lying on riverbanks letting all the sounds and sensories wash over me for a couple of hours and doing literally nothing else. A few aspen and cottonwood leaves fall, and of course the larches (tamaracks) turning yellow, which is always one of my favorite sights in autumn.
Thanks so much, Nia. Yeah, riverbanks! Wonderful sit spots -- something good about getting bathed in negative ions as well? That's a thing, right? 😀
In fact it is! There’s been research. Of course.
Quivering like a leaf about to fall, here. Stacked emotions about individual life, biological life, political life, planet's life.
It all fits together! Thanks, Diane.
I love thinking about the combined weight of that leaf blanket across our forests. Just imagine what the weight of it must have been like 500 or 10,000 years ago…
Yeah, and compared to long ago, WE are now so much of the weight (and the livestock we raise) -- so much of the burden.
Yes - we have in many ways terraformed this planet into a big farm for us humans ... but those leaves blanketing the forest floor as they have for millions of years let me know that wild nature is still alive.
An extraordinary post , Bryan. If only everyone would want to take a moment to listen closely and hear the whoosh of falling leaves. Probably better left unsaid, but I will say anyways. Many would not feel or see the magic even if ,for just one moment, they took a look.
“I don’t see anything special…” says an onlooker. And so on and so on.
Back to the magic; Here in the NEK , the cloud bank raised, the grand finale begins. The trees point their branches , the wind enters from the north, the leaves begin to dance. Every day now, I give a standing ovation👏👏 Encore, I whisper. The fog rises from the lake in the morning and the show begins again. Tickets are going fast, but there are a few seats still available.
(DM me if you are traveling up this way, and would like to know where the ‘best shows’ are located.I’m at Crystal happy to share).
Probably peak up there now -- or just past? No matter what, however, no matter how much Vermonters might like to nitpick or debate about it, the foliage is ALWAYS great!
Peak , at some of the higher elevation ponds. Most everywhere else up here is almost there, but certainly not passed . Worth the trip!
John McPhee you are not Bryan, but geez after this brilliant essay I'd say you are neck and neck with Big John. I can't wait now to get out there and just simply watch and listen to the leaves falling . Thank You! Also, I am tickled how you have commandeered that ancient Reagan-era "trickle down" nonsense and given us all a new meaning for that once odious expression.
Thanks so much, Jim. Gosh, I'm humbled. Okay, next we'll have to somehow appropriate ketchup as a vegetable. 😀
Every leaf that falls matters. Yes. I also practice falling leaf meditations, though it's from my deck these days with the dog lying on my feet.
Sending warmth and gratitude and especially healing vibes to Eisley (and to NC). Grateful that you made it through the storm okay.
Thank you.
Lovely, Bryan. Thank you.
Bryan, your writing is as beautiful as your photography, and That. Is. Saying. Something.
I won't say more because I'm entirely overwhelmed having recently learned that I share a planet with Painted Buntings...
Well, Chloe, what a lovely note. Thanks. You've made my day. And even before dawn here in the U.S., it had already been wonderful day so far because I arise every morning and know that I share a planet with Chloe Hope.
❤️🌎❤️
I love the details you shared about leaves falling - one leaf landing on another still attached to the tree or a caterpillar riding a leaf to the ground - just reading about your experience was calming.