Thursday, 9/13/07 at 11:25 AM
by Jenny Skorcz
by Jenny Skorcz
Autumn Leaves and Their Great Trees
True autumn cool embraced Colorado Springs yesterday and today. Running on the trails last week with my two cattle dogs, I noticed something different about the sky, in the way the light brightened the landscape, lent every plant, rock, and butterfly a crispness – the land felt still, like it was waiting for something to happen. Then, thick clouds enveloped the town and a weighty dampness forced everyone into jeans and sweaters for the first time in many months.
As the temperatures continue to remain low and daylight decreases, the leaves on the trees will quickly begin to turn and drop. Make yourself a part of this change; point your front wheel in the direction of tree-lined streets or forested trails so you can witness the glory of autumn color.
I have the good fortune to commute under a canopy of mature Maple, Elm, and Ash trees everyday I pedal to work and home again. Year round I am sheltered beneath their massive arching branches. It takes many trips up and down this same road to get to know the trees, to notice the subtle changes that take place through the seasons. During high summer, sunlight breaks through here and there, piercing the ground in brilliant white rays. The leaves act as a filter, lending the light a brilliance that would otherwise be overwhelmed by its own intensity. These same branches provide protection from the heavy monsoon rains that pour down violently in July and August. Although lightning could easily penetrate the trees and reach me pedaling home, I allow myself to feel protected by the canopy as strikes occur overhead. I have witness the resilience of the trees during powerful summer storms and have been amazed by their ability to remain upright when the winds make it almost impossible for me to pedal.
As autumn returns and takes its place, I pay close attention to the nighttime temperatures. I am rooting for lingering color and a hard freeze or early snow will make the color fade quickly. There is an amazing road that runs from Chama, New Mexico, to Taos. Twice I have spent an entire day in June pedaling the 93 miles with girlfriends in total awe of that beautiful route. One fall, I drove down there with my Mom in order to share with her the part of me that enjoys cycling in places like that. The colors were better than I had ever seen. We don’t get a ton of red in this part of the country but that year, the Carson National Forest hosted a plethora of red leaves amidst the gold. The colors were so magnificent my Mom kept asking me to pull over so she could take more pictures. That night, a foot of snow dumped on the mountains of Northern New Mexico and, in the morning all that red was buried under a blanket of white.
The winter phase of a tree’s life impresses me most. On the surface, the tree appears dead. The branches are stiff and leafless and the color of the bark darkens. At night, these gnarled branches spin webs of refracted light from the streetlamps and sometimes, if you are lucky enough to be standing in the right spot, from the moon. It is truly amazing how the limbs that resemble arthritic witches fingers in the winter will transform into fluid ribbons of movement, exuding grace and strength come spring.
In early spring, I inspect the trees regularly for signs of new life emerging. I use a route without much traffic, which affords me the luxury of being able to enjoy the surroundings rather than worrying about oncoming traffic. Investigate your local options, find a neighborhood or old suburb where you can pedal safely and look around. A bike path is better for tree viewing than a technical section of single track, for the trail will require focus. You could use the trail to get to a viewing spot and spend some time off the bike exploring the visual characteristics of your trees. Take the kids with you and record the changes you observe as they occur. Make a trip to the same location each week so they can track what they see – it will truly remind you that we are all part of this miraculous world of changes.
Enjoy the changing of the seasons,
Jenny
As the temperatures continue to remain low and daylight decreases, the leaves on the trees will quickly begin to turn and drop. Make yourself a part of this change; point your front wheel in the direction of tree-lined streets or forested trails so you can witness the glory of autumn color.
I have the good fortune to commute under a canopy of mature Maple, Elm, and Ash trees everyday I pedal to work and home again. Year round I am sheltered beneath their massive arching branches. It takes many trips up and down this same road to get to know the trees, to notice the subtle changes that take place through the seasons. During high summer, sunlight breaks through here and there, piercing the ground in brilliant white rays. The leaves act as a filter, lending the light a brilliance that would otherwise be overwhelmed by its own intensity. These same branches provide protection from the heavy monsoon rains that pour down violently in July and August. Although lightning could easily penetrate the trees and reach me pedaling home, I allow myself to feel protected by the canopy as strikes occur overhead. I have witness the resilience of the trees during powerful summer storms and have been amazed by their ability to remain upright when the winds make it almost impossible for me to pedal.
As autumn returns and takes its place, I pay close attention to the nighttime temperatures. I am rooting for lingering color and a hard freeze or early snow will make the color fade quickly. There is an amazing road that runs from Chama, New Mexico, to Taos. Twice I have spent an entire day in June pedaling the 93 miles with girlfriends in total awe of that beautiful route. One fall, I drove down there with my Mom in order to share with her the part of me that enjoys cycling in places like that. The colors were better than I had ever seen. We don’t get a ton of red in this part of the country but that year, the Carson National Forest hosted a plethora of red leaves amidst the gold. The colors were so magnificent my Mom kept asking me to pull over so she could take more pictures. That night, a foot of snow dumped on the mountains of Northern New Mexico and, in the morning all that red was buried under a blanket of white.
The winter phase of a tree’s life impresses me most. On the surface, the tree appears dead. The branches are stiff and leafless and the color of the bark darkens. At night, these gnarled branches spin webs of refracted light from the streetlamps and sometimes, if you are lucky enough to be standing in the right spot, from the moon. It is truly amazing how the limbs that resemble arthritic witches fingers in the winter will transform into fluid ribbons of movement, exuding grace and strength come spring.
In early spring, I inspect the trees regularly for signs of new life emerging. I use a route without much traffic, which affords me the luxury of being able to enjoy the surroundings rather than worrying about oncoming traffic. Investigate your local options, find a neighborhood or old suburb where you can pedal safely and look around. A bike path is better for tree viewing than a technical section of single track, for the trail will require focus. You could use the trail to get to a viewing spot and spend some time off the bike exploring the visual characteristics of your trees. Take the kids with you and record the changes you observe as they occur. Make a trip to the same location each week so they can track what they see – it will truly remind you that we are all part of this miraculous world of changes.
Enjoy the changing of the seasons,
Jenny
Comments
I too love the changes of the seasons, especially summer to fall. Although, here in California sometimes the changes can be quite subtle. Fall is the warmest time here in the Bay Area, but you can always count on see the leaves turn color before they drop. I love to hike in the hills to really get a feel for the season around this area.
Add a Comment