City of Trees

I grew up in the City of Trees. I lived there on and off for the first 46 years of my life. However, although we had plenty of trees, we didn't have a whole lot of color. The leaves would turn brown and then fall off. To me, though, as a little girl, it really didn't matter what color the leaves were; I just wanted to crunch my way along the sidewalks and gutters of Sacramento.  On those crisp fall mornings walking to school, I would take my time. I loved the noise of crackling leaves. I would daydream my way along the streets, wondering how I even ended up at my final destination, so lost was I in my deep childhood thoughts. I miss those times. Thinking times, crunchy times. Times to ponder life.

Eventually, we moved out to the Midwest, where I learned what a real autumn looked like. Fiery reds, brilliant oranges, sunny yellows, and all other shades of fall would overtake the month of October each and every year. I can hear my California friends and family groan and roll their eyes in unison at this statement, but it's true nonetheless.  Fall color in the Midwest is awesome! And I've heard that it doesn't even come close to how beautiful the northeast is.

However, even with all the beauty of the Midwest, nothing compares to my childhood memories of my city of trees. My favorite time of the year is still autumn, and when I go back home, the visit is that much sweeter in the fall. Yes, sometimes it's a bit warmer than I'm used to now, and yes, sometimes I don't get to wear my new fall sweaters, and yes, sometimes the leaves are just plain old brown, but there is one thing that remains the same-- the crunchiness of those leaves, and the memories that flood my soul.

Yes, I love the sound of leaves crunching underneath my feet. It triggers memories of my childhood, walking through the autumn leaves on my way to school each foggy, frosty morning. It is a good memory. It is a memory that makes me smile. It is a memory that tugs at my heart.

Childhood memories are funny like that. We have good memories and bad memories. And it's true, sometimes the bad outweighs the good. And maybe like mine, your childhood wasn't all that great either. And that's OK because I am a grown-up now. I get to take the good memories and build on those. I get to decide which thoughts to camp on. And this fall, I chose to remember the good things. Like crunchy leaves, wood-burning fireplaces, and the smell of rain on sidewalks. Those are the triggers that I pick to dwell on.

So I encourage you to walk through some leaves this season. Close your eyes, walk in some gutters, crunch a lot, smile, and take a deep breath. For me, that's what God smells like. Fall, He smells like fall. Peace, safety, protection--I guess those are the memories that are triggered when I walk through crunchy leaves, especially when I am home in the city of trees.