The summer went by fast.

Some folks pine about summer ending, but I love all seasons; one door closes and another one opens.

In autumn the forest under-story floods my lungs with earthen perfumes. Organisms are busy breaking down leaves and tree skin, weaving a thicker blanket for the forest floor before winter arrives. Rains come a little more often and the tilt of the sun signals the leaves to stop being green because its time to let go and be free of twiggy tethers, its time to return to the beautiful mother earth and nurture the lives yet to come. We are privileged to see this cycle, and to dwell upon a deeper meaning.

Grasses have long been brown yet still bend and a few seed heads release the last of their children to the winds. I wish more of us could be free and trust our lives enough to allow the wind to place us to where we are supposed to be, and that we would find within us an innate ability to accept where we land and see the virtues that challenging places bring out in us, like endurance and ingenuity.

LM forest
Rainforest near Mission, BC

You don’t have to walk far in a natural forest to see the challenges that some trees live in. Yet they grow and grow and grow until they simply can’t. Original wild places make us more of what we are.

We used to think trees competed against each other for food, and light, and space but its much more intricate and caring than that. We now know that forests are communities of young and old, rich and poor, and mixed species. Parents support children with extra nutrients and children support parents by breaking the wind. Trees may appear at first to be quite different from people, but when it comes to community we, and the trees, are very much the same.
So while some folks pine about the closing days of summer, I admit to pining for ways that city dwellers see how much we have in common with the forest, no matter the season.

Mairi Budreau

Kamloops Backcountry Hikes