“Nah, I don’t really want to go now, I have a lot of things to do at home, and I know you have a lot of work to do too,” I said to my husband, as we sipped our morning coffee together, side by side on the deck. “Besides, when we talked about it last night, the forecast was for full sun, and now there are tons of clouds in the sky.” We were discussing plans for the day, a conversation we’d had the night before, when we’d talked about “leaf peeping,” an autumn activity so popular in Northern New England, that tourists come from around the country, and some even come from around the world to see the fall foliage in all its glorious splendor. Some people make reservations months in advance, and spend hundreds, if not thousands of dollars to witness Maine’s grand finale. Yet, here I sat, with a sour look on my face because, now the weather wasn’t perfect. In addition, I was actually in a cleaning mood, and didn’t want to be interrupted, because that mood is fleeting and I’ve found it wise to harness that sucker and ride it while it lasts, or else I’d never clean out a closet, wash a window or dust.
He was quiet for a minute as we both looked over the railing to our overgrown field, the morning dew sparkling on the amber birch leaves, while the sun ignited the reds of the maples in the background. “I guess you’re right, ” he said, squinting in my direction, I should finish painting, and go to the dump.” His smile disappeared, like the sun at that very moment, as it hid itself behind a cloud. I thought of how little he asks of me, and the unavoidable guilt I’d feel by getting my own way and breaking the plans we’d made, so I relented. “Ok, fine, let’s go. I’ll go get ready, ” I sighed, getting up reluctantly and going inside. I threw some jeans on over my yoga pants, put a hat on my head, grabbed a sweatshirt and a water bottle, and I was ready.
Off we went, into the mountains of Maine. He chattered like a magpie, while I looked out of the passenger side window, answering questions, and offering one word answers, but I didn’t participate much at first in the way of conversation, partly because I’d left my enthusiasm for the day back with the mop, and partly because the clouds were like a wet blanket on my shoulders. This seemed like a waste of time, when we wouldn’t be able to see the vividness of the changing leaves against the clouds as well as we would against a bright blue sky. I knew I was being ridiculous–that I’m blessed to live in Vacationland, where beauty is literally out my back door, and that I have a husband who loves nature even more than I do, and even better, that he loves nothing better than to share the beauty of the earth with me–but, you know how it is, sometimes when you let yourself get into a funk, it’s hard to pull yourself out, and the fact that you know you’re being ridiculous, makes it even worse. For me, this kind of mood is only improved by one thing, and that is to not only think outside the box, but to literally get out of the box, and into some fresh air.
It is so easy to limit our minds and our lives to the four walls we live and work in. We live in a box, we sleep in a box, most of us work in a box; and so, our minds and our passions can sometimes be limited to what we can control. I can turn on the light if it’s too dim, turn up the heat if it’s too cold, the AC if it’s too hot, and turn on the TV if I’m bored. I live in a controlled environment, but nature will not be controlled, which can be exciting, disconcerting, but oh, so beautiful. My husband knows this, and sometimes I know it too.
“Ohhh look!” I said suddenly, as we sailed past an overlook. Braking quickly, we turned into a horseshoe-shaped turn with one of the most fabulous views I’ve ever seen. Silently, we got out of the car and looked at the artistry before us. Colors, as far as our eyes could see; brilliant reds, oranges and yellows, set against a backdrop of green pines, “a bouquet from God,” my husband said, and I had to agree. Beyond the trees, a lake framed by mountains in the distance, some as far away as Vermont and Canada, with a flamboyant carpet cover, the whole effect as dramatic, yet dazzling as a fireworks display. Above it all, a layer of clouds adorned the top, the striations adding to the scene, not taking away from it. My mood lifted like the breeze, as I silently thanked God for his handiwork and my husband for helping me to appreciate it. Why should I wait until the conditions are perfect to enjoy what is before me? I’d be waiting a lifetime, for there is no perfect on this earth; not in our lives, our homes, or even in nature, it’s all in how we choose to see things.
