My favorite month is flying by. I’m trying to enjoy every moment of it with pumpkin delights and autumnal flowers. We lost out on winter and spring. Summer was a nightmare. So, I’m intent on enjoying autumn.

My photographer friend and waiter at a favorite Chinese/Vietnamese restaurant in Boulder, Ming, asked me at lunch yesterday, “Why is the color off this fall?” He loves to photograph nature, share his latest work whenever we go to for my favorite noodle bowl.

“What happened?” He asked behind his mask.

“Drought. The vegetation didn’t blossom. The cycle was altered. Aspen leaves died shriveled on the trees for intense heat and lack of rain. The stand behind our barn just died,” I said, reaching for the photo. “No golden colors for them.”

The look of dismay on my friend’s face broke my heart. He was genuinely shocked this could happen.

“The berries – service-, rasp-, straw-, and chokecherries – didn’t blossom. Maybe a few apples bloomed on the trees. But even wildflowers so ecstatic with expression on Smudges’ grave I planted last spring – only a few Lupine cropped up. And the fresh plants – Calendula, Bee Balm – all stagnated in the heat. Only now do I see hints…”

  I chose not to share of the three hundred bears who lost their lives to Colorado Parks and Wildlife, when they were forced by our State’s Two-Strikes Law to euthanize them. Nearly all had been foraging closer to human habitation, breaking into homes and cupboards in desperation of finding sugary delights and fruits to fill their ursine bellies.

My ninety-pound friend from an entirely different culture, as gifted with love of nature as he is deeply alone, was crestfallen. In years past, he’s driven to Rocky Mountain National Park to photograph elk in rutting season, lingering well behind the last car before the semaphore closed.

“It’s climate change,” my husband said.

“Will this happen again?” He asked.

Nobody can say what the future holds. We all know temperatures are intensifying and the West is getting drier. Not to mention the occurrence of natural disasters feeling far more dramatic and frequent.

All I could say was that Mother Earth is angry. Trying to right Herself where She’s off balance. I thought, too, of my friend Scott from my Ecopsychology cohort. “Na-cher always provides,” he said.

Images of Mister Rogers arose in that moment.

I thought, too, of our escape van, the one we afforded this summer to haul our seven rescue dogs and three cats to safety. The world’s largest go-bag on wheels, we joke. I bought Adopt a Shelter Pet plates to promote pet adoptions. I special-ordered plates: Peace28, I was so happy to get them.

The hope in my heart grows along with the passage of time for a group of enlightened, intelligent and compassionate leaders who will care about such things as autumn leaves and berries for bears.

I know it would make my friend Ming happy.