Finding Autumn
My original plan for this week was to have only one midweek post, and put the blog on cruise control for the remainder of the week. Then fate intervened – not in the form of Tuesday’s elections, or the end of the Rumsfeld Era on Wednesday, but something far more culturally seismic: Britney Spears’s divorce.
It can be said that I’ve had a passing fascination with Britney’s career trajectory in recent years. So I couldn’t let the news of her divorce simply go unmentioned – especially when one of the first things I thought after hearing the news was a running analogy. Yes, my mind is a twisted place. I don’t even bother questioning it anymore.
Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures – so I’m publishing this post a couple of days early, and planning another one about Britney later this week. (Have I mentioned how much I suffer for this blog sometimes?) As for now, let me just say this on that subject …
I’ve wondered in this space before why nobody in Las Vegas has thought to take wagers on reality TV programs, such as Survivor or The Bachelor (speaking of which … at the beginning of this season, what would have been the odds that a virgin would be the last girl standing? 1000 to 1? Ten thousand? I can’t even imagine.) Now I’m thinking that the same reasoning could apply to celebrity nuptials.
Thank about it: the news of Britney’s divorce surprised absolutely nobody. The only question anybody had was what took her so long. So how much money do you think would have passed hands two years ago if some casino had placed an over/under line on the length of the marriage? Everybody would have wanted a piece of that action. If the line was 24 months, how much money would the house have made from people betting the “under” and losing after the 25-month marriage? Sometimes I think I should offer my services to the gaming industry.
But let’s stop there for today, and get on with the regularly scheduled post. It’s a snapshot of a day early last week, a couple of days before my wife’s surgery.
***
One of the most distinguishing characteristics of Carmel Valley’s landscape is the preponderance of oak trees.
Various species of oak populate nearly every square acre of our terrain: from enormous white oaks on the valley floor, to densely packed live oaks on the flanks of canyons, and sprawling black oaks sprinkled on the ridgelines atop the valley. 
In fact, the oaks are so pervasive that other species have a difficult time establishing themselves. Small groves of redwood, cottonwood, pine and sycamore trees have developed in places, but for most of the year, their beauty is lost amidst the flourishing older natives.
It’s only during the autumn months that these secondary trees are finally able to distinguish themselves. And none do it better than the maples.
There aren’t many prettier sights in nature than seeing hundreds of leaves on a mature maple tree display various hues of red, brown, and yellow before making their descent to the earth below. Likewise, there aren’t many prettier places to run than on a trail that lies barely visible beneath several inches of fallen leaves.
During October and November, I try to run as often as possible in Garland Ranch, the 4500-acre regional park located just minutes from my front door. Its steep fire roads and challenging switchbacks are ideal terrain for trail runners in any season, but at this time of year it’s also the best place to see pockets of brilliant colors within the verdant oak forests (our oaks typically don’t shed their leaves until much later in the season).
The maple trees here are clearly in the minority; looking at the hillside from across the valley, they appear like small drops of red and yellow paint randomly splashed against a green canvas. From ground level they can be completely obscured by the dominant foliage. In other words, if you want to experience the beauty of autumn in Carmel Valley, you have to know where to look for it.
I was reminded of this while my 8-year-old son grew frustrated with a school project last week. His assignment was to collect and press fallen leaves for a craft that his class was doing, and he was dissatisfied with the samples he gathered from our yard.
We have three large oak trees on our property. For aesthetic appeal, they are fantastic. For gathering autumn leaves … not so much.
He collected a handful of small, sort-of brown oak leaves from our driveway before announcing that things weren’t going very well, and he didn’t think the project would be any good. That’s when the idea came to me.
Luckily, I had been running on the trails that very morning, and knew exactly where to go. I said, “Come with me - I know where to find some great ones,” and five minutes later he and his sister (who never passes up a good art project) were in the car, and we drove straight to the nearest trailhead.
We walked the trail to the base of a large maple tree where the leaves piled up around our ankles. And my son no longer had any worries about filling his basket.
The two of them waded ahead to gather some leaves. At first, I tried to guide their decision making – this one has nicely blended colors, that one has perfect symmetry - but quickly decided that they were certainly qualified to make such choices on their own. Picking up one leaf after another, they kept some and discarded others by some internal subjective rationale that I felt no need to influence. The collection we returned home with was as impressive as anyone could ask for.
I have no idea how the school project turned out. I’ll probably see it when it comes home in a backpack with a stack of other papers. Honestly, it doesn’t really matter to me that much.
What’s more important is that two of my kids and I spent an early fall evening walking among the fallen leaves. They experienced the simple joy of the season and came home with a little more appreciation of the natural beauty of their hometown.
It somehow seemed fitting that the day should end on the same trail where it started for me 12 hours earlier. Because if I hadn’t run there in the morning, I might not have remembered that spot of autumn leaves in the oak forest. But since I did, the run had an unexpected ripple effect through the end of the day.
Best of all, thanks to a simple trail run, my kids learned where they can find a terrific maple tree.
