25 Sep From the Editor: For a Little While

My home opens broadly to the south with an oversized glass door leading to a covered patio from which a panorama unfolds. Beginning in the east, a distant ridgeline traces the division of our valley from a nearby chain of lakes while foreground hills sprawl to the west, abutting a set of peaks that are trumped by a retired lookout tower. Our horse pasture rolls through these foothills; a seasonal creek and pond are nestled at the lowest point, and a wave of green-hued forest emerges as the hills rise, swelling to a crescendo where land meets sky.

Lodgepole pine dominate the view, curtsying their branched skirts in moss and emerald tones. Among them stand the larch. These towering giants send archaic limbs outward as whirls and burls interrupt their corrugated auburn skins. Their foliage, once the tender green of spring, slowly fades as mornings dawn increasingly cooler, as summer fades to fall.

By October, the larch needles have become ocher, punctuated by the shadows of still evergreen pines. Beautiful in their form and presence, the larch are one of the season’s gifts. Beyond their glory, the trees are a signal of the coming cold. Soon, needles will fall to the frozen ground; the trees will slumber, their petrified limbs still and stark amid the snow.

As the trees and vegetation respond to the region’s weather patterns, so too do its inhabitants. Animals lean into their migrations, some caching and consuming more food. For humans, it’s a time of turning inward: we seek the warmth of the fire, sip drinks to comfort the heart. The stories herein recognize this shift in routine, celebrating those small moments of pause.

During this season of change, may we be reminded of the cycles of time. This moment lingers for but a short while.