The first week of November

I was away for the first week of November – so far away that I didn’t see or hear the election cataclysm as it unfolded. For nearly half the population, it was a tsunami of trauma; for slightly more than half, it was a vindication. The sudden change that swept our nation was astonishing.

But on the way home, I was even more astonished by how much the natural world changed in that one week. Speeding south on I-5, I was transfixed by how many leaves had fallen, how much sky had become newly visible through bare branches, and how colors had shifted – some faded; others intensified, and many relocated from high in the trees to the chilly damp ground.

Clearly, there had been a big storm here, too.

The Nisqually Valley was transformed; the alders, cottonwoods and big-leaf maples were half dressed, still dripping in a shower. Even so, they were hanging on to all the leaves they could.

In the other Washington, the changes have kept coming, with a near hurricane of Cabinet nominations this week.

The changes outdoors here in Thurston County keep coming too. My neighbor’s Chinese Empress Tree was down to its last three leaves yesterday; today, it is bare. The birch tree next to it is still lemon yellow, and a Star Magnolia nearby is a glowing mellow orange.

I find myself cherishing the changes in the natural world; as the rain poured down, I found myself looking out the windows a lot. It’s calming to see that fall is still fall, reliably unaffected by our electoral drama.

The natural world will reliably do what it does, regardless of whether any of us are watching. But watching this shifting season can have a powerful effect on what we feel, think and do.

There’s no controversy about this fact: Time focused on the natural world – even if it’s just looking out the window – is good for our mental, spiritual and physical health. And healthier people are capable of healthier relationships. Healthier people are more inclined to equanimity than panic, and more capable of finding a way forward.

In the human world, as much as in the world of trees, flowers, fish and squirrels, there is always a way forward.

The earth doesn’t offer solutions to all our human-made problems; that’s up to us. But the more strongly grounded we are in the natural, biological community we belong to, the more strength and wisdom will light the path ahead.

Maybe you feel unaffected by the changes that are now taking root in the other Washington. But what happens in that Washington will affect our Washington as surely as rain gets all of us wet.

Sooner or later, we will all need the comfort and connection to the natural world to help us cope with what’s just begun.

So go outside. Go for a walk. Or at least look out the window. Inhale the rain-washed oxygen the plants around us produce. And exhale the anxiety that obscures our vision of the steep path forward.

Jill Severn writes from her home in Olympia, where she grows vegetables, flowers, and a small flock of chickens. She loves conversation among gardeners. Start one by emailing her at  jill@theJOLTnews.com