The big news here in Vermont this autumn has nothing to do with Ben & Jerry, maple syrup, or even Bernie Sanders.
It’s the leaves.
Fall foliage is insane this year, the best in decades. So I suggest you get yourself to Vermont pronto. Quit your job, sell your house, leave your spouse — do whatever it takes. Our forests are an aurora.
If you can’t make it, do not worry. I offer you not only images, captured this week by the photographer Mitch Moraski, but also a reminder about recognizing the wonder wherever you are.
In an essay like this, it would be customary for me to describe the foliage in lyrical prose or explain why it’s so vivid this year. I will do neither. For one thing, my ideas and adjectives are rendered feeble before colors this profound. Besides, a discourse on tree science detracts from my essential idea: These leaves are a universal testament to awe.
Admittedly, awe, wonder, and humility can be clichés in nature writing. I might as well go on about the healing powers of sunsets or how butterflies are my teachers. (Okay, sometimes I do.)
My point is more about awareness and exuberance. The awe is everywhere, especially in the living world, the real world. What demands more from us is the noticing. Sure, the world can be tough to take right now, and most of us struggle with one thing or another. All the more reason to step away and notice the leaves.
I’m fortunate: I now see the show everywhere. My routines are no longer routine. My bike ride for groceries becomes an exercise in gawking. A mountain I’ve climbed 100 times or so became new on Wednesday because I’d never seen foliage so vivid from its summit. This week I’ve accosted nearly every friend and acquaintance, demanding to know whether they’ve noticed the fireworks. (Yeah, everyone has.)
In his essay about the human capacity for wonder, John Green points out that aesthetic beauty isn’t so much about what you see, but whether you bother to look. “From the quark to the supernova, the wonders do not cease,” Green writes. “It is our attentiveness that is in short supply, our ability and willingness to do the work that awe requires.”
You yourself may not live among these leaves. But somewhere between the quark and the supernova, between your home and your destination, lies beauty in nature. I do not know what it might be, but I know it’s there for you.
For me now it is the leaves. They’re falling as I write. So do not waste time. The awe is calling. We’ve got work to do.
Bonus Photography and Notes
Mitch Moraski gives us what’s genuine in nature. His varied images — landscapes, wildlife, plants, people — are never overwrought; they’re honest. Mitch’s foliage shots are not exaggerated by way of editing (which happens all too often in New England foliage photography). It really looks like this in Vermont right now, even along our roadsides. For more of Mitch’s extensive portfolio, visit his website. Here are few more of his shots from this week (click for the best views):
My claim about this being the best Vermont foliage season in decades is of course subjective. But our forest ecologists had predicted that conditions were right for an extraordinary display, and everyone here is talking about it. Older folks haven’t seen anything like it in decades. The tourists — we affectionately call them “leaf-peepers” — are jubilant. And from my vantage among the leaves, I believe these pyrotechnics can indeed change your life.
Okay, for those of you wondering why: Vermont entered autumn with healthy tree canopies (lush, green, and lacking extensive insect damage). Sunny days, cold nights, and dry conditions in September favored strong production of anthocyanins (the pigments that color autumn leaves in reds and purples) at a time when chlorophyll breaks down to reveal other pigments (carotenoids) already in the leaves. To my mind, the notable results this fall are that Sugar Maples are monarch orange (rather than rushing to yellow), White Ashes are sensuous burgundy, and the Red Maples (oh, the Red Maples) are redder than red.
That John Green quote is from his essay “Our Capacity for Wonder,” which is one of many brilliant essays in his collection The Anthropocene Reviewed.
I am currently visiting the White Mountains. Just off the Kanc. I grew up here, my family had a ski lodge in North Conway, and I also lived in Vermont - not far from Marshfield - for almost 25 years. I’m now in NY (but hope to move back to NH - I miss my mountains). I was shocked, in an awesome way, when I got to the Whites. My drive through Vermont (not Central Vermont) wasn’t as awe-filled because there were many places on my route where there had been extensive deciduous tree loss 3 or so years ago. But . . . NH! Wow! I hope everyone privileged to experience this exceptional awefilled foliage season takes a moment to breathe it in and let it go deeper than just the surface, deeper than the photo op. Earth needs all of us to fall in love with her, and her beauty is a huge portal to a magical experience that lasts and makes a difference in how we live.
“To notice the leaves”
in and away from Vermont
“Testaments to awe”