Some years fall’s rich and brilliant colors seem to come in, crest, and flow out in huge waves. The changing colors advance forward like a symphony— with two, three, or more movements. Just as soon as one passage appears to reach the richest pigmentation possible, the weather turns bad, the leaves fall and the ground briefly turns golden, scarlet or burgundy brown. But as the colors fade away, another wave of glory, brighter than the last, unfolds before our eyes. That’s because the terrain has different microclimates, soils and varieties of plant life. We’ve native oaks and hickories, hard and soft maples, beeches, elms, walnuts, fruit trees, willows, autumn olives, lindens, catalpas, birch trees and more. Sadly the ash trees are gone.
Occasionally, under right conditions, color peaks of red and yellow will overlap in a fury of intense and glorious contrast. One year the wild sumac blazed scarlet in mid-August amid mature greens. Colors usually come and go until November winds and rains wash away the last traces of brightness. Then we can enjoy the quieter richness of the nutmeg and leathery toned oak leaves.
I’ve read that when God commanded Moses to establish the Fall Feasts for the nation of Israel, the Promised Land was heavily forested with deciduous trees. I wonder if the first Fall Feasts, the Feast of Trumpets, Feast of Tabernacles and Day of Atonement, were celebrated in a blaze of fall color. Did the Lord plan for the New Year to begin in the fall—when the trees are ablaze with reds, oranges and yellow hues— just before the natural world enters a dormancy— or yearly rest? The Hebrew day traditionally begins at sunset, just before rest, when the skies are often ablaze with crimson reds, rich oranges and brilliant yellows.
Shall you and I blaze with glory or shall we slowly fade away as we enter our seasons of rest?
Speak to the sons of Israel, saying, “In the seventh month on the first of the month you shall have a rest, a reminder by blowing of trumpets, a holy convocation.” Leviticus 23:24 N
