After an almost unbearable summer of extreme heat, smoky skies and unbreathable air, we in Colorado are being blessed with an autumn of incomparable riches: perfect temperatures in the 70s, breezes light enough to stir the aspen leaves, a sky so intensely blue that it must have been electronically enhanced.
There’s nothing to be done except enjoy it. Sitting outside on the front deck, I try to concentrate on the book I’m reading, but it’s no use: the golden light, the soft air and murmurings of the aspen demand my attention. At night, the clear skies have revealed more stars than I’ve seen all summer.
It’s the last of the year’s opportunity to sit outside with friends who don’t want to be inside restaurants in a time when Covid is still lurking. So we gather on porches, under the embrace of the aspens or among the tall ponderosas, or have campfires in Rocky Mountain National Park, listening to the bull elks issuing their calls to domination. We talk about politics, about the peculiarities of our families, about the fragility and preciousness of life. Conversations meander, like the leaves blowing off the trees, or go deep, like the roots of the pines.
Usually by October, most of the aspen trees have dropped their leaves, but this year a late spring delayed the onset of the aspens leafing out, which has resulted in an extra week or two of ripening colors. The mountain roads are full of leaf peepers, stopping at each pullout to snap another dazzling display. In Rocky Mountain National Park, they’re joined by the hordes jamming the roads to see and hear the elk bugling. In these quickly changing times and after last year’s horrendous wildfires, it’s comforting to see this ancient ritual continue.
But 70-degree temperatures in the mountains in October are not normal. Nor is the lack of snow on the mountain tops. I have to remind myself that this remarkable autumn is courtesy of climate change that has kept the weather abnormally warm.
Last October we were victims of the more destructive aspects of global warming: two seemingly unstoppable fires that threatened Estes Park and burned parts of the national park so badly that trails still remain closed one year later. Even last week, a wildfire in the central Colorado mountains wasn’t slowed by rain and 40-degree temperatures. The ground is so dry that we can’t yet let our guard down until we get snow.
Although the warm weather is unnatural, I can’t refuse this gift, especially when more destructive weather will come soon enough. For now, let me enjoy the beauty, the radiant light, the hush before winter.
Lovely photos! We miss the fall colors in the mountains of CO.
The rhythms of the seasons are different and more subtle here on the CA coast but fall is in the air here too.
Posted by: Carol Christenson | October 12, 2021 at 07:08 AM
What glorious images, Kathy. These are the best I've seen this fall.
And yes, we shouldn't be seeing these colors right now; and yes, the next fire/flood/tornado is just around the corner, poised to destroy again. But I'm damned if I'm going to let my grief over the destruction of our planet rob me of the joys of its glories, even if we owe those glories to conditions that will ultimately rob us of them forever.
Posted by: Jennifer Woodhull | October 13, 2021 at 09:33 PM
Thanks, Jennifer. I agree with you that we should enjoy this beauty while it lasts. What else can we do?
Posted by: Kathy Kaiser | October 25, 2021 at 06:59 PM
thanks, Carol. Enjoy fall on the coast. I'll envy your nearness to the ocean.
Posted by: Kathy Kaiser | October 25, 2021 at 07:02 PM
What stunning pictures! Such beauty! So sad that there is always, now, this undernote of worry, this awareness that, despite the seeming perfection, all is not right with the world,.
Posted by: Julene A Bair | October 26, 2021 at 02:46 PM