Fall Frolicking and Acorns

Today is one of the most gorgeous days I have ever experienced. As I left my apartment today, I noted that it was the brightest and crispest of mornings. It was like stepping out of a particularly difficult exam into the free air and realizing everything is behind you and nothing could be more beautiful than the future.

The breeze blew in just the right way so that the cool air gave me chills of excitement for the season to come. Walking down the sidewalk to the bus stop, the anticipation of new experiences and adventures aroused my attitude higher than it had been in days. The sunshine was piercing, yet it relaxed me as the constant beams coved me in a comfortable clarity of mind. After all of the rain and puddles, the bright light was a reassuring reminder of consistent goodness. I could not believe anyone could remain indoors. I had to force myself to go to class because all I wanted to do was run around and do cartwheels across the quad.

The weeks have begun when light jackets become the only barrier between you and the cold atmosphere. I love this part of the year because shedding that light jacket and exposing your short sleeves to the elements is like a purposeful and edgy declaration of freedom. Though you shiver without the hugging layer next to your skin, the cool air in your lungs empowers your soul and cleanses your ambitions.

Pictures cross my mind of the mountains in the fall. I close my eyes and imagine Moonshine, the mountain home where I spent many childhood vacations. As I open my eyes again, the metal frame of the bus stop returns and I hear the rushing of busy cars. But my mind is open, and in my head’s vision the house stands before me like a beacon of liberation.

Leaves both twirl through the air and lay moist on the ground. Rich evergreens cover the landscape, tinted blue by dew drops. The smell of burning wood billows from the valley below. It seeps through the woods and pools around me, the aroma burrowing into the fabric of my clothes as I hike up the gravel drive. The crunching of the rocks beneath my shoes is the only sound I make as my feet swivel and sink over the changing terrain. I notice each spec of dirt, moss and beetle which crosses my path. The defined colors of resilience and change sparkle from the ground to the sky. The world is still and silent, but I can still feel the resonance of life around me. It is alive with time and spirit, with history and process- the natural processes of the earth which created the exact and unique portrait before me. Every rock, stick and stone is deliberate and valid in its existence.

I stop. Crouching, I observe the top of a fallen acorn. The brown bowl is cocked to one side, the inner concentric rings facing up and over my left shoulder, as if it is staring up at a world bigger than itself, waiting to receive its next order. It rests on its edge because the bulbous tip which emerges from the top is still attached to a tiny branch, which has embedded itself in the mud. The bottom right corner of the cap is chipped with a triangular hole, like the removal of a slice of pizza. The wound represents an attack of an unknown stressor which has stolen a component of the top’s integrity. I then think of the immeasurable number of actions and occurrences that led up to the particular positioning of this one minute acorn top.

I suddenly feel small and insignificant. And yet, I feel powerful for having discovered the privilege I have been given in witnessing this special and unique moment in time. I may be just a small part of the bigger picture, but without my life and experiences, my influence on my environment, the picture would not be the same. The entire essence would be different. And like a unique grouping of alleles, a completely separate world would exist.