A Naif in the Forest by Darrell Berger

Wing Tips to Hiking Boots: Musings of a New, Full-Time Poconos Resident

The fall colors had been disappointing. Endless rain and cloudy days are not conducive to fall colors. Our terrible summer, which followed a spring too late to earn its name, which followed a winter where we lost power for nine days, was ushering in an autumn that was not going to be in any way redemptive.

Additionally, I wasn’t in the forest for the middle of the month. By the time I returned last week, I had missed a peak that I could not confirm had even happened. I was frankly a little disappointed at the so-called wonders of nature.

Last week I walked with Violet the Corgi, intentionally to find what vivid colors of the year I might salvage. A bit of sunshine broke through, for which I was more than usually grateful, it being so rare of late. I discovered, much to my relief, that fall colors were indeed everywhere, wonderful as always.

They were a bit past their peak, but so am I. They might not be as vivid as usual, but for this year’s lack of showiness, there was textured ochre in endless variety. The further we walked, the more colorful it became. Here was a tree quite spectacular. There was a sprig of red, contrasting vividly against the pines. Our driveway was golden. A drive to Milford presented a number of huge trees, any one of which deserved their own filming and framing.

Maybe the fall had been a little disappointed in me. “Hey, buddy. We did our thing,” said the forest. “We turned from green to all the usual colors, and you weren’t even present for the show. You show up in the bottom of the eighth, don’t expect to see every hitter.”

There are a few days left of fall, and even more before winter really asserts itself, I hope. It’s not enough for the colors to appear, it seems. I also need to take the time, focus my attention, to see them.