Pre-fall blues or where happiness lives

by , under All categories, Enrique

No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings.
William Blake (1757-1827)

Of all the seasons that pass over the Nordic region, possibly fall is the most magical. But what makes it stand out from the rest?

Is it the pitch-darkness? Is it the vast universe above and its peppered celestial inhabitants that appear to gaze down upon us longer than usual? Yet again, could it be the sound of rustling leaves and rapid breezes that holds on for a moment to trees before losing steam?

I was certain on a late-Saturday afternoon two years ago that I’d finally succeed at finding where happiness lived.

Deep in the woods, I noticed a lone bird resting on a branch. Poor bird – I thought – it must have escaped from a farmhouse because toucans only live in the tropics.

“If you move fast and long enough you’ll be in different lands,” the bird said to my surprise in half-toucan, half- human. “In a way I envy stones because they know where their home is. They don’t move.”

“Don’t look surprised,” it continues. “There are other creatures from distant lands that inhabit these forests. Aren’t you from faraway as well?”

I followed the black bird with the brightly colored bill deeper in the woods.

The scenery looked familiar but then it started to change. A pine tree I passed had its cones pointing towards the sky and there was a spring that had the following sign: “Drink here and quench your thirst for dreams.”

There was also a modest shack that looked like a country store but only sold by the pound hugs, kisses and warm caresses.

A woman soon appeared before me just when I noticed the bird had vanished. She was blessed with so much beauty that it would take thousands of rainbows arched simultaneously in the sky to match her loveliness. I looked straight in her captivating eyes, which are like breathtaking views from space to Earth.

“So what brings you here?” she asks without malice.

“I’m searching for happiness. Can you help me find it?”

Silence and then an answer that twirls to the soft moist ground as an autumn leaf that parted from a branch.

“It’s useless for you to soar high enough by yourself… But with the help of the autumn woods we’ll show you that contentedness is right here and now.”

  1. suburbanlife

    I love the fall too, at the northern latitudes. In the Yukon, fall is glorious one final golden blaze. Walking in the woods on the fallen aspen leaves is like walking on a carpet of golden coins, the air is crisp and the nights magical. Nice post and lovely ending paragraph. G

  2. Paddy

    I’m writing this comment because there is only one comment showing on your post when there is two so I wonder will this one show on your comments register.
    Paddy.

  3. savannah

    here in the southeastern part of the u.s., we’re at that stage right before fal..when everything is on the verge of decay..over ripe..insanely lush , but dancing on the edge of death…

  4. nemoo

    Dear G, it must be magical to witness autumn in the Yukon. I hope I’ll have the opportunity one day to walk on those carpets of golden coins…

  5. nemoo

    Dear Savannah, so nice to hear from you. Fall in your part of the world must be beautiful. It’s lush in these parts but nos insanely, as you put it.
    What a beautiful weding! Have you gotten over it or are you still catching your breath?

  6. savannah

    thanks, sweetpea! still recovering from not only the wedding, but a business trip almost immediately afterwards…just back home this past thursday..good to see YOU, too! 🙂

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