So I know I’ve blogged about the magic of chasing waterfalls before, but there’s something equally compelling to be said for chasing fall foliage. For those of us lucky enough to live in a climate where the leaves change markedly with the seasons—and unlucky enough to experience the long, brutal winter that inevitably follows—watching the trees evolve through their diverse spectrum of colors is akin to experiencing the first winter snow or witnessing fresh daffodils bloom in spring: It’s nature’s raw, breathtakingly simple way of reminding us that everything has a time, everything has a place, and change is both beautiful and inevitable.
If you’ve ever seen a map charting out the progression of fall color, then you know it’s an astounding spectacle to behold. Whether aspen, oak, maple, or birch, autumn leaves erupt in a symphony of bright red flames, char-burnt oranges, and warm golden yellows, enveloping the trees and everything that surrounds them in cozy blanket of color. Every autumn we revel in the beauty of fall, and every autumn we watch as the leaves morph into entirely different versions of what nature—of what possibility—can look like.
Notably, the evolving combinations of reds, purples, yellows, and oranges is not arbitrary and ultimately results from the chemical processes that occur in trees as the seasons move from summer to winter. Season by season leaves change the balance of pigments in their cells in an effort to maximize the energy of the sun while minimizing waste and meeting the needs of the tree. In the fall, when the days begin to shorten and the temperatures begin to drop, leaves slow their energy production so they no longer wastefully produce energy-rich compounds. Over the course of this season, chlorophyll breaks down, the green reflected light begins to fade, trees transition into dormancy, and the yellows and oranges become magnificently visible.
Specific color combinations depend heavily on tree species and the chemical makeup that gives different leaves their pigment. Certain species—such as the sugar maple—develop brilliant orange leaves, while other species—including dogwoods and sumacs—boast vibrant reds and rich royal purples. Precisely where leaves fall on the color spectrum depends on the varying amounts of chlorophyll residue and other leaf pigments that develop and change throughout the fall season. Of course, it’s also worth noting that some trees—including pines, spruces, and firs—never lose their verdant color and perpetually maintain an unwaveringly stoic sense of “forest green” consistency despite the changing seasons.
While the science behind fall foliage is fascinating, I—forever the English major—gravitate to autumn out of something that is deeply intrinsic, poetic and much more difficult to succinctly explain. Despite its inevitable connection to change—which is often abrupt, uncertain, and even anxiety-producing—fall evokes a quixotically paradoxical sense of warmth, comfort, and nostalgia. Indeed, fall functions as a homecoming of sorts and heralds a lineup of beloved, time-tested traditions that we embrace with open familiarity regardless of the countless natural changes that surround us. From back to school, to crisp college football games, to dressing up as ghoulish spirits on Halloween, autumn brings people together, invites celebration, and gives us something to look forward to, all while the world boldly insists on changing around us.
Perhaps this is why fall has arrived in such a flurry of excitement this season; in the midst of 2020, a year filled with chaos and unpredictability, people are desperately looking for comfort and familiarity—in fact they are hungrily craving it—even if that means it comes with a healthy dose of change in the process. This is what fall means to us: Familiarity. After months of living through COVID where time has blurred in a broken endless loop and left us feeling disconnected, people are looking for tangible signs of familiar change. What’s more, we are longing for beauty and vibrancy that reminds us we are okay—that life goes on—and that while it can often feel like the world is raging around us and slowly slipping out of our control, the seasons still change, the leaves still fall, and we are still able to lose ourselves in the simple pleasures that come from taking a casual stroll beneath the changing leaves on an unapologetically languid autumn afternoon.
In one episode of our seven-part girls’ week saga, my mom and I ventured north to chase the changing foliage in Duluth and capture some of this magic for ourselves. Northern Minnesota is simply stunning this time of year, and Lake Superior’s unique climactic effect makes Duluth and the North Shore prime real estate for witnessing the colorful palate that defines fall.
We enjoyed a slow, scenic drive, already noticing a marked transition in foliage as soon as we left The Cities. Losing ourselves in the color and conversation, before we knew it, we were dwelling amongst the trees and less than one hundred miles from the Canadian border. In no rush whatsoever, we opted to take scenic Highway 3 and were often the only car on the road. We rolled the windows down, turned the music up, and stopped frequently to linger in the stillness and bask in the colorful splendor that stretched as far as our eyes could see.
Our adventures eventually diverted us from the road less traveled back on the North Shore’s main through-line, Route 61. We slowly began our migration south, pausing at Silver Bay, Beaver Bay, Split Rock Lighthouse State Park, and eventually Gooseberry Falls. With each stop we walked through the woods, breathed deeply, and enjoyed the striking color palate that surrounded us. It was a simple, inspiring way to spend a crisp autumn day, and I could think of no better person to spend it with than my mom.
American essayist and naturalist John Burroughs once wrote, “How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days.” I love this sentiment for its profound beauty and simple truth: For even in times of transition and decay, fall leaves maintain a proud splendor and undeniable vivacity that both celebrates change and highlights all that is good despite that which inevitably fades away.
What a fitting reminder leaves then serve for us in this season, particularly as we navigate our own uncertainties and anxieties amidst this uncannily turbulent year. For not only should we strive to hold ourselves more lightly, take ourselves less seriously, live in vibrant color, and celebrate joy in our final days, but really we should plan to live this way always. There’s a certain magic in the trees, a certain wisdom in their existence, and if we can learn to channel even a fraction of this grace and resilience then we might finally be able to stop chasing fall foliage and instead recognize the beauty in where we are and savor the abundance of color—of life—that surges around us every day.
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