Fall means beautiful trees. Growing up, I always loved the red maples, and when I moved to Pennsylvania a few years ago, I was so excited to have one of those beauties in my front yard. What struck me there, though, was how the turning trees cast an orange hue in the air, as if you walked in the atmosphere of another planet.
As much as I love trees, too many of them can be a bad thing. Wait…let me explain before you hit the close button. I’m a flatlander from the open prairies of Kansas. Trees indicated either a stream or a farmstead. When you looked across the open plains, you could see forever. As my Dad would say, “Miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles.”
When I lived on the east coast, those miles turned into yards. The trees were so thick, you couldn’t see through them to your neighbor’s house. Whenever I drove down a highway, I felt like I was in a tunnel. It freaked me out, because you couldn’t see oncoming storms. You couldn’t see the tornados.
Yes, in my home state, you could see a storm coming from a couple counties away. You could watch as it slowly spun in the sky, creating a swirl effect that looked like cotton candy on a stick. You could see a funnel drop out of the massive storm and watch as it barreled across the open fields. You could tell if you needed to seek shelter.
The trees hid all that sensory input from me. Whenever I drove through a storm, I worried I was driving right into a monster, unaware and doomed. I hated the trees in those moments. But when the skies cleared, and the birds started chirping again, I loved them for all they gave to Mother Earth.
In Daughter of the South Wind, Dawn came from the prairies, and I’m sure as a chaser, she’d understand my love-hate attitude about trees. The book is on sale through Friday, Nov 16th…for FREE, a perfect time to read the book and let me know if you agree.