My outdoor reflection for this week took place this morning. I had just showered and dressed, and had begun to make some breakfast. I had been feeling anxious for much of the morning, for no obvious reason other than the fact that I had stayed up late and didn’t sleep particularly well, and felt the need to step outside of my apartment to get some fresh air. The back of our apartment isn’t particularly picturesque or beautiful; open our door and you are greeted with a parking lot, wire fence, and gravel alleyway. But there is a pretty cottonwood tree, and of course you can see the sky and the clouds and hear birds calling. I took particular notice of a tree several yards down, turning a vibrant shade of red.

I find the changing of the leaves during fall to be a particularly quiet and reflective sight. The year has been long, and it is an annual comfort to see the leaves changing and signaling that the quiet of winter is imminent. What would I do, I wonder, in a place without seasonality. Leaves changing, temperatures dropping, these things are what show me that time is truly passing. Without it, I think I might feel as if I were in a state of limbo, suspended from reality.

Standing outside, I felt my anxiety fading away. It is no secret that we aren’t meant to spend so much time indoors staring at screens, but the feeling you get when you step outside really drives home that point. The trees I was watching didn’t know I was there, but it was hard not to feel a sense of reassurance and a calming energy emanating from them. It was as if they were reminding me of how easy it is to feel better, if you only step outside and try and be still.