I reserve all forms of the word “amaze” for only that which is truly extraordinary. For me, autumn colours have an impact on my psyche and senses that I consider amazing. In Manning Park a month ago, the yellow leaves were lighted brilliantly by the October sun. At various points along Highway 3 between Hedley and Hope, numerous splashes of yellow contrasted with the green forest that blankets the towering mountains. Standing on the bridge across 20 Mile Creek here in Hedley a few days later, I was awed by the spectacular wall of yellow alongside the creek. A grove of trees on a meadow on Nickel Plate Mountain provided an astounding array of red leaves.

For me, “amazing” is an appropriate word to describe the manner in which Mother Nature, like a quick change artist, suddenly strips the colour and beauty from the trees, leaving them bereft and stark, at times dripping with rain. The change tends to leave me feeling somewhat bereft myself, and a little mystified at how silently and surreptitiously this is accomplished.

This autumn the falling of the leaves came quickly, coinciding with the passing of 3 valued friends. In each case, like the leaves, they departed too soon. As a university student Eric Robinson was for two summers a labourer/teacher with Frontier College. He later became principle of the college, received an honourary doctorate from the University of Calgary and was awarded the Order of Ontario. Although I had not seen Eric in years prior to his passing, I continue to miss his warmth and ability to speak about ideas. Another lost friend is Barry Berger of Keremeos. A physically large man with a self deprecating sense of humour, Barry worked with street people in Vancouver, sometimes in dangerous circumstances. Cousin Eddy, who I wrote about last week is another individual I will miss. Known as “Fast Eddy,” he was a highly skilled and respected truck driver. Each of these individuals exemplified qualities I enjoyed and respected.

Both fall leaves and human lives possess the capacity to create in me a sense of awe. Then all too quickly the beauty begins to recede and soon fades into oblivion. Just as we have a short time to observe and appreciate the grandeur of nature’s autumn colours, the opportunity to understand and appreciate the people in our lives is also relatively short.

Fortunately the colours of late fall can still impress, and so can the wisdom of people, especially those with white hair. I’ve concluded that if I stand still long enough to take note of the leaves, and take time to get to know the people around me, the sense of amazement can always be there.