The Evergreen State

I did a little internet research tonight to look into the nickname of the state in which I currently reside, Washington, also known as "The Evergreen State."  The nickname was given by a pioneer, realtor, and historian, C.T. Conover of Seattle because of the many, many evergreen forests in the region.  If it were light, out my window I could see evergreen trees in every direction, a cacophony of conifers, if you will.  They are everywhere.  But the nickname takes on another meaning for me this fine October day.  Not only are many trees ever green, the grass is green, the bushes are green, the plants are green, and flowers are blooming.  This is much more green than the occasional evergreen magnolia tree sprinkled throughout the South.  This is more green than you can imagine.  In fact, Seattle is called the "Emerald City," not with reference to the brilliant green jewel but because of the brilliant green period.  Oh my. 

It's October.  Is anyone else sensing something wrong with this picture? 

Last weekend I drove out of my way to a street that I knew was lined with deciduous trees, which were turning yellow and blowing across the road and crunching underfoot.  It was beautiful and were I to look up, I could have transported myself to the Ozarks or the Tennessee hills (which not incidentally, I sometimes often want to do).  It's a beautiful fall week, but I find myself stepping outside and asking, "Where are the dying things?!"  Apparently I'm not the only transplant to ask that question.  One of Jamie's parishioners told her about a flower blooming the February she first moved here.  She was angry and the poor, innocent little flower as if to say, it's not your time to thrive yet.

I defy you green things.  It's not your time.  You need to go ahead and die.  If you don't die, when will you be resurrected?  If you don't die, how can I hope for new life in these feelings of loneliness and isolation?  I will say fall is beautiful, but I of Kansas, Tennessee, Missouri, four seasons, dry winters, brown leaves, and dead grass am having an absurdly difficult time appreciating it at all.