When the Trees Turn Gold

Suzanne Simard tells us that the Mother Tree cares for her offspring,nurturing them, feeding them, warning them. It sounds a lot like love, so it's hard not to credit the trees with other emotions, too. It's hard not to think that the trees in Southern Oregon have expressed their joy at rain and a nip of cold this autumn by bursting into color.

Don't you, when you are overjoyed at something, burst into song? Maybe bursting into color is the equivalent response to joy from the maples and oaks of southern Oregon. And if that's the case, we might see that the trees are particularly happy for all the wonderful rain that has fallen in the last two weeks, because the maples have been a richer, deeper yellow than ever,

and the dogwoods, usually so demure in their pinks, have blushed almost red,

and the scrub oaks have grown exuberant in bronze, yellow, scarlet,burnt orange, and maroon, all in one tree.

Vine maples also go wild with different hues in one tree and even on one leaf.

You probably think this is a case of psychological transference, that because I am full of joy at the abundance of color in the maples, oaks, and dogwoods this autumn, to say nothing of being overjoyed at the rain itself, I transfer that joy onto the sentient trees. But I assure you it is the other way around, that walking under the maples transfers joy to me. Like sending nutrients to their offspring through mycorrhiza, the trees send their autumnal joy to me through the air we share and that, indeed, they so abundantly provide.

(Another expression of joy in the mountains this autumn.)