There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot.
ECCLESIASTES 3:1–2
Autumn in the western mountains can look a bit drab compared to the flaming colors of New England or the carefully chosen trees in our own neighborhoods. Most of the wildflowers are gone, and grasses have turned brown. In some areas, vine maple provides one of the few flashes of brilliant orange. Aspen leaves do turn a lovely gold color, and their soft rustling becomes a clattering, as though the trees themselves shiver.
The coniferous trees stand tall and dark on the ridges and hillsides—with one exception. The needles of the western larch, often called the tamarack, turn a lovely pale flame orange. Scattered among the evergreen species, they dapple the landscape with fall.
Tourists often ask, “What is killing all those trees?” But this is not the deep rust color of a dead evergreen. It is the glowing autumn coat of a deciduous conifer. During the winter, the needles will fall. Come spring, these same trees will glow with the soft green of new needles.
Our lives have seasons as well, and cycles of loss and regrowth. Sometimes we mistakenly assume that everyone moves through these seasons in the same pattern. There can be joy and solace in sharing life’s stages and challenges with our friends. But what happens when events don’t conform to the timeline we expect?
The tamarack reminds us that our Creator does not design identical carbon copies. He is extravagant in the variety and nuance in His creation. When we seek Him—and sometimes even when we don’t—He guides each of us through the seasons in the way that we need to go, providing what we need for the journey. Remember that although the tamarack may not be a typical conifer, its unusual color is the very quality that makes it so beautiful and enlivens the autumn landscape.