What Autumn Teaches | Inside Yankee
I am writing this during the third week of July. On this day I will enjoy about 15 hours of daylight. By mid-September, when the first foliage seekers visit the mountains and lakes of northern New England, the light will have lessened by two and a half hours. When the roads fill with tourists in […]
I am writing this during the third week of July. On this day I will enjoy about 15 hours of daylight. By mid-September, when the first foliage seekers visit the mountains and lakes of northern New England, the light will have lessened by two and a half hours. When the roads fill with tourists in mid-October, sunrise to sunset will be just a shade over 10 and a half hours. I will miss those hours of sun I have today, but the timeless paradox of autumn remains: The colors that give us this signature season could not happen without the coming darkness. As the light wanes and the nights cool, trees absorb less energy from the sun; the chlorophyll that gives its green chemical to the leaves softens its hold, and reds and yellows and shades of orange seep through. The most exuberant foliage in the world now takes the stage.
Writers often describe fall in fierce language. Colors “erupt,” “explode,” “blaze,” “catch fire.” When we view foliage when colors are at peak, the feeling is one of dramatic change, as if, indeed, they’ve erupted. In reality, the change comes quietly, subtly, with some trees clinging to green while others in the same landscape are laced with gold and scarlet. In “Peak Perfection” [p. 99], we offer a road map of sorts, from north to south, highlands to sea, a journey through seven distinct New England regions where fall finds its footing. The traveler can use it for a day trip, or an odyssey. (Wherever you go, check in with Yankee’s online color finder for maps, photos, and weekly updates: newengland.com/fall-foliage.)
The paradox of light and dark emerges also in “Beacon on the Water” [p. 28]. Novelist and essayist Joyce Maynard fell in love in her 50s, only to see her husband fall seriously ill. In the depths of winter, she found solace by imagining the life they could have in a New Hampshire lake cottage she had discovered for sale online.
The lesson that author and baker Gesine Bullock-Prado imparts [“Her Own Sweet Time,” p. 54] is familiar to anyone who has nurtured a dream and refused to settle. On a visit to Vermont, Bullock-Prado saw her own light, and followed it from Los Angeles to launch a bakery and a new career.
A theme that resonates throughout Ian Aldrich’s account of the opioid crisis in Gloucester, Massachusetts [“Port in a Storm,” p. 130], is how hope and despair can exist in the same space, at the same time. He spoke with those who are committed to the struggle to stop the downward spiral of lives derailed by addiction. It is a story that reminds us how fragile and precious life can be.
Every year autumn makes this clear. Six weeks is too brief to waste. It’s why the people who enjoy the season most are the ones who drive slowly, their windows open. They stop often. And more than anything, they know that when they come across one single gorgeous tree, they have found perfection.
Mel Allen editor@yankeemagazine.com
Mel Allen
Mel Allen is the fifth editor of Yankee Magazine since its beginning in 1935. His first byline in Yankee appeared in 1977 and he joined the staff in 1979 as a senior editor. Eventually he became executive editor and in the summer of 2006 became editor. During his career he has edited and written for every section of the magazine, including home, food, and travel, while his pursuit of long form story telling has always been vital to his mission as well. He has raced a sled dog team, crawled into the dens of black bears, fished with the legendary Ted Williams, profiled astronaut Alan Shephard, and stood beneath a battleship before it was launched. He also once helped author Stephen King round up his pigs for market, but that story is for another day. Mel taught fourth grade in Maine for three years and believes that his education as a writer began when he had to hold the attention of 29 children through months of Maine winters. He learned you had to grab their attention and hold it. After 12 years teaching magazine writing at the University of Massachusetts-Amherst, he now teaches in the MFA creative nonfiction program at Bay Path University in Longmeadow, Massachusetts. Like all editors, his greatest joy is finding new talent and bringing their work to light.
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