Coloring

There have been a multitude of colorful trees the last few months. I escaped to North Lake Tahoe for a family weekend, had a quick midweek adventure in Ansel Adams wilderness, and escaped to Northern California for Thanksgiving. After five years in Southern California, towering leafy trees exploding with autumnal colors are incomparable to towering buildings and drought tolerant landscapes of Los Angeles.

There are many trees and some trails a few miles North of where I live in LA, in my “backyard” so to speak. But, after growing up in Sacramento, some dreamy Yosemite trips, and a summer in Colorado, fall hiking with colorful trees is a different kind of wonder inducement not found in my current backyard. With the ever surmounting list of responsibilities, it’s easy to justify not making the drive or flight the extra miles to colder weather. But, when I start moving up a trail, feeling that feeling in your chest of breathing in chilly air, I remember it’s always worth the journey–even for only a few days.

In Tahoe, the leaves were a wash of bright colors in early October, with aspen tree yellow jumping out against the dark green mountains as we drove to the lake. On a walk near our cabin, I ran my hands along the tree’s smooth white bark missing the days I sat in the branches of Colorado aspen trees as a high ropes leader. The Tahoe weekend was shortly after the equinox, so mornings were dark and temperatures didn’t dare rise above mid 50s. Only a few months before I was kayaking in the lake on a hot summer day. Now, the top of a hike brought an expanse of frost covered rocks. The five mile jaunt lead to a vista overlooking the lake where I could see snowcapped distant mountains.

A few weeks later I drove up to Oakhurst at the base of the Sierras near the South Gate of Yosemite . My adventure buddy from college lives there and we spontaneously decided to retreat to the woods for a day. I was only slightly removed in regards to distance and time from Tahoe, but the landscape was very wintery. Needle ice populated the edge of Jackass Lake in Ansel Adams Wilderness. The brush was a dry yellow with faded green trees. Still, nature struck me as ablaze with color. Anything feels brighter and more real once I’m out of Los Angeles where most colors are manufactured or faded by smog.

Then, I went to Sacramento for Thanksgiving. After the blues and greens of the Sierras, the bright reds lining my parents neighborhood stood out. I gathered damp leaves from the ground, stuck them in my pocket, and pressed them in a sketchbook. No paint palette ever accurately captures these hues. It is wonder inducing all the colors nature can produce.

Scrolling through old blogs, I realized how intuitively I seek natures striking colors. From the red dirt roads in Africa to blue ocean and expanses of green trees, these places imbed themselves in my eyes and soul. As I tentatively walk into the New Year, I hope to find more of this. More of the earth bursting in color, more adventure, and more of these moments with enchanting people. Go find some colors and let me know where you do–I’d likely make the drive.