Getting Local: Exploring Local Pockets of Nature this Fall

Mini pumpkins, October 2014

I love Fall. Every season has its charm, but Autumn is my favorite. The crinkle of dried leaves underfoot or their rustle in the breeze is a melody I look forward to every year. The air feels different, too. It can be crisp or a last ditch warm, but it is undeniably "fall" air. I get to see my favorite constellation, too. Orion is back in the sky in the Northern Hemisphere.

Where summer is a bustling play time, fall is a more reflective, internal time for me. I have to switch to a slower pace. I just have to. After the natural full throttle of summer, in autumn I quiet down and go into nesting mode. I enjoy cooking and baking more, I knit, I light candles, I listen to calmer music, I read more . . . you know, nesting. I also like to be outside and feel the natural world doing the same thing.

Aspen Yellow, October 2014

Yesterday we went to a local corn maze. I know, not exactly wild, but still a beautiful exercise in witnessing Mother Nature. She does rock our food sources and although the point of that corn field was for entertainment, it still holds natural energy. And as I was walking through that field, the total history nerd inside was thinking of all the fall traditions associated with corn and pumpkins. There were times it was easier to feel those connections to our natural world. The good news is we can still plug back in if we want. I'll be honest, it helped going early before the crowd became a crowd.

Today we went "hiking." I absolutely adore hiking in the mountains, but finding closer pockets of the natural world to explore and enjoy is more practical some weekends. Like today. We explored a local park along the Bow River that is indeed a city park, but had trails that you can forget how close to neighborhoods or Deerfoot/Highway 2 you really are. Going at 8:30 on a Sunday morning helped, too. Not many folks out on the dirt paths that early. :) And we got to hike alongside the Bow River. Rivers can be bring that touch of wild energy to urbanized places.

I'm roasting a turkey today for Sunday dinner. Not the norm in our house(!!), but today I wanted traditional. And the nesting of Autumn continues . . . I've learned to embrace it and see where it takes me.

Carburn Park, Calgary, October 2014

Happy Autumn.

Lessons from Mother Nature and a September Snow Storm

This week it snowed. A lot. Wait a minute, I swear it is only September! I know I've been working on slowing life down, but maybe I accidently sped it up? Nope, my time bending skills didn't ricochet.  ;) Calgary just got a flash snow storm this week.

I was up in the Peace River area (*interactive part* search Peace River Valley on Google Images. Gorgeous!!) for the first part of the week. We had snow up there. But the intact forests were snow-kissed, each section as picture-perfect as the last one. Beaver dams and lodges on quiet ponds, and moose and deer completed the scenes.

I came home to heavy snow, the bending-trees-over-until-they-snap heavy.

I'm a tree kid, I adore trees. Driving with my family to work and school and seeing street after street of broken, battered trees made me catch my breath in dismay. But I don't subscribe to railing at Mother Nature. It is my philosophy She knows what she is doing, even if we humans aren't privy to plan is.

As I took in the magnitude of broken tree limbs I wondered what wisdom I could gleam from such dismay. Turns out a lot.

Some parts of life have been heavy lately, others for a long-ass time. Candid, but true. :) The feeling of being at that breaking point might have crossed my mind. Seeing broken trees surround me, trees whose limbs or trunks broke or shattered under the stress and weight of the snow, was appalling until I put it in a different perspective. Yes, magnificent, stately trees were humbled, but they will thrive again. It might only take the rubble being cleared away. Snapped limbs can create opportunities for new growth and new direction. Broken doesn't mean dead. It's a great opportunity to regroup.

Taken from that perspective, what weight am I feeling stressed under? Do I want to wait until I snap, or simply realign until I find that beautiful balance, that sweet spot of strength and give? Which reminds me, my husband called from work and asked me if I was up to knocking off what snow I could reach to ease the burden on our trees. My daughter and I were home sick, but the fresh air and falling snow lifted our spirits. Our helping hands lifted the trees' limbs. Together, we found that sweet spot. This time, no limbs broke under the weight of snow. We lost a bunch of leaves, but no limbs.

What about you? Is it time for taking inventory on your stress levels or a regroup?

Thank you Trees and Mother Nature for the lessons. Again. :)