Opinion: After the fall

Foliage seen from the Kancamagus Highway in 2011.

Foliage seen from the Kancamagus Highway in 2011. Monitor file

Leaves change on the Kancamagus highway just west of Lincoln.

Leaves change on the Kancamagus highway just west of Lincoln. Courtesy

By JOHN BUTTRICK

Published: 10-12-2024 6:00 AM

John Buttrick writes from his Vermont Folk Rocker in his Concord home, Minds Crossing. He can be reached at johndbuttrick@gmail.com

It is that time of year when the true colors of New Hampshire reveal themselves.

Last month I came across this invitation: “Check out one of New Hampshire’s scenic train rides for a truly unique and relaxing foliage experience.”

I thought to myself, “Self, do I ever need a relaxing experience! I particularly need it at this season of election campaign true and false promises and the news of the horrific wars among nations with which the United States is entangled!”

Almost every October, we drive north from Concord to transverse the Kancamagus Highway with its colorful roadside views and overlooks. This year, in my mental state and at my age, it would certainly be more relaxing to take in the views from the train. Also, a train ride would allow me to see more of the fall display than when I have to keep my eyes on the road.

On the train, my eyes will be set free to see the whole panorama of color. It will be the canvas upon which my mind will recall fond memories. There have been energizing trips with our children urging frequent stops at trailheads for short hikes to a waterfall or a unique overlook of a valley and mountains beyond. There is the memory of inviting our special friend, Hal, to join us. He was our mentor through the many transitions in our lives since we met him in our early twenties. We still miss his keen observations and wisdom on our foliage excursions. Now that he’s gone, like the Old Man of the Mountain, he has bequeathed to us the voices of the fall forest views.

There is the voice of the past and the voice of promise. In the past, I have always had an affinity for the mountains and the sea and their effect on a New Hampshire dweller’s personality. I have perceived the self-reliance demanded by the wooded wilds and the crashing ocean surf. I have witnessed honesty and wisdom offered with an economy of words.

Laugh-out-loud humor has been expressed with subtle chuckles. Periods of silence have welcomed comfort and companionship rather than anxiety. Listening has been preferred to imposing opinions upon others. Communities have been nurtured with covered dish suppers, county fairs, and voluntary aid to neighbors in need. Town meetings have been the key expression of democracy at work, the moderator inviting anyone to speak their mind and vote.

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However, the display of fall colors also serves as the voice of promise. The shades of forest green: pine, spruce, fir; are infiltrated with splashes of bright colors. The voice of those brilliantly colored trees reveals to me the promise of a transformed New Hampshire population. We are no longer a monoculture of kindred proud craggy human beings. Seeded among New Hampshire folk are now people from an assortment of cultures bringing fresh insight to the old true but tired traditions.

True to the history of New Hampshire, these new people bring in the customs and ethnic ways from faraway countries as well as from Massachusetts and New York. Some of these ways are contrary to present cherished customs. Some interpret values in new ways. And some alien ways blend with New Hampshire customs, expanding their meaning.

For example, Mexico’s celebration of the Day of the Dead gives new meaning to the U.S. traditional Halloween. The concept of hospitality is enriched by an immigrant who lives across the street coming over to help me carry my groceries into my house. Our agriculture benefits from outsiders who recognize some of our weeds as nourishing delicious food to be cultivated.

Some of these new ways may feel disruptive to cherished traditions. However, a second look at the vista of an enhanced population may reveal a new fulfilling culture. The new people have added color to the, at times, drab manners of the past. New characteristics are not necessarily in competition with the traditional ways but often in support of them.

Gazing out over the fall countryside, the colorful trees whisper to me, “Get over your provincialism. Meet your colorful new neighbors with thanksgiving for their contributions to New Hampshire culture.” Yes, there are a few who bring in threatening ideologies that imperil our well-being, demanding that we submit to their ways. But, in a pluralistic society, their divisive demands pale in the presence of multicultural companions.

Yes, I have anxiety that my idealism of New Hampshire’s past will be lost. But the variegated fall vista assures that there is room for the expression of many traditions, enriching all of them. We’ve lost the view of the wise Old Man of the Mountain but we’ve gained the view of fall foliage proclaiming the wisdom of the many.