image via onebigphoto.com
This mystical tree can be found in the Japanese Garden in Portland, Oregon, 144 miles south of Seattle.
We have a Japanese Garden up here, too. For a while, I was a member and I dropped in every chance I could get. Especially when the Japanese Maples looked like this. Two years ago we slipped in our holiday portraits during the last days of crimson and gold.
image by Jessica May Photography
For as we all move toward a rebalancing of opposites within and without, we see that this duality within the whole is an intrinsic part of Reality. One cannot exist without the other, and the seasons and the ebb and flow of life reflect to us this elemental wisdom.
Like last year, like every year, I am eager for the leaves to change. Even if this means they’re dying. As the branches becomes barren and the rain drifts sideways and the days turn cold and the nights endure, the Pacific Northwest is never more beautiful or haunting or polychromatic.
Our pumpkin patches sprout bulbous mounds of orange. Our apple trees bear green and red and pink orbs of sweet fruit, crispy like the air. Our homes fill with mulling spices. Our cafes tempt with pumpkin spice lattes and pumpkin bread. And Trader Joe’s offers everything pumpkin-flavored from ravioli to yogurt (I’ve tried them all).
Soon we’ll be carving pumpkins and choosing costumes and toasting to the spirit world. Soon I will be celebrating five years of love with my husband–not to be confused with our wedding anniversary in July. Soon I’ll be thinking about Christmas presents and preparing for baby.
And best of all? I’m pregnant and I get to eat all of the creamy butternut squash soup and pumpkin cheesecake that I want. I have my eye on these bars. And by this I mean I can’t stop thinking about them.
image via sillyboyartistry.com