Fall and Me
for most of my life
fall has been a a time for school:
for being a student
for being a teacher,
with the outside world as a backdrop,
not a main actor in the play of my life,
now that my energies are less circumscribed,
I work to notice, to appreciate,
to watch whatever forests I can find,
as each anticipates, and prepares for,
the consequences of water's phase change,
when liquid can morph into solid
and threaten life's ability to endure,
evergreens long ago chose to give up
some efficiency in the summer
for enduring through the winter,
the Cherokee particularly respected the spruce and the fir,
the rhododendron and the laurel,
and their cousins down in the valleys,
they who kept photosynthesis going,
their Indigenous wisdom found power in staying awake,
for both animal and plant,
deciduous trees withdraw their blood from the leaves
and recycle the substance in them
to enrich the ground below,
the soil can then better help future growth,
there is power in their withdrawal
into ground and root to await the Spring,
I have read that the Cherokee saw trees as "standing people,"
that deciduous trees remind us of humility,
of the need for rest and rejuvenation,
and that they, like all other plants, are allies to humans,
for me that one to two months of transition
from summer to winter realities
is the stuff of transcendent joy,
every leaf that drops its green
can reveal the flare of its inner color
and deserves a shout for how impressive it is,
even one tree, one leaf, can pull my heart into awe,
and pull us to want to find a way forward
to share what we see, what we feel
of the beauty a moment can hold and release,
this fall the outside beauty has often
stopped me in my tracks,
and released tears of joy from my eyes
at the incredible reality of the woods before me,
how appropriate that we name and celebrate a time
that usually follows the show, Thanksgiving,
celebrating the bounty of the year,
and our still being here with people we care about,
and with a world that offers wonder as the year declines,
the dark, the grey, the clouds, the withdrawal into sleep, are coming,
for now I want to celebrate life,
and the blaze of its magnificence,
I go back out into the woods:
the wind blows,
the sun shines,
golden leaves from a red maple flow around me like confetti.
by Henry H. Walker
October 29, ‘26
