Common Ground

Since the first day of fall, I’ve been anxiously waiting for the woods to transform into a magnificent tapestry of autumnal colors.

For weeks, I dragged my husband on long walks and country drives hoping to be amazed. I squinted my eyes, imagining the trees painted russet, scarlet, bronze, brown, and gold, but I was beginning to give up on splendid fall foliage this year.

Along with gusty winds, a hateful force blew over the land last week. I took a walk in the forest to clear my head of gnawing images. I wanted to shake them off and leave them there in the woods with the echo of angry voices unable or unwilling to find common ground.

Hot tears stung my eyes and burned my chilly face. I sat on a log and stared at a thin shaft of sunlight that fell on a patch of spongy moss. The light slowly spread across the log and over the ground. Low morning clouds parted, and golden sunlight filled the woods.

It was then I noticed the trees. Oaks and sugar maples had adorned themselves in gorgeous rich hues. Aspens, black maples, hickories, and birch trees had been gilded. Autumn’s brilliance had finally, faithfully, arrived just in time to fill my aching heart with serenity and hope.

Millions of Americans make pilgrimages each year to see the multi-colored leaves. They explore byroads, trails, and backyards. The Japanese have a similar custom called momijigari, loosely translated to mean “leaf hunting.” Human beings across time and space seem to share an appreciation for seeking nature’s beauty.

So we do have something in common.

I don’t have the answers to our world’s problems, but I think nature can help us find common ground. A young girl named Anne Frank left us this advice, “The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely, or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature, and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature.”