A Samwise & Emily Letter

Meeting three gossips on the trail

There are moments when I look at Samwise and Emily and marvel at their goodness—their pureness in being who they are. Such self-awareness and comfort in being who they are. I am blessed to have a front-row seat and witness how they’ve changed through the years.

Yesterday, we walked through the forest and came upon a path where the overstory opened, and shadowy groves stood on either side. Beneath us was a slender earthen path bordered by a few feet of wild grass on either side. I noticed the first wild apples bobbing along the trail.

Our temperatures are dropping, even as humidity keeps the air heavy and thick. Clouds and wildfire smoke have blotted out the sun for nearly a week. And yet the coming autumn murmurs on.

A few early orange and red maple leaves can be seen on the ground, even though the grand show is a month away. The sumacs’ daggered leaves are always the first to turn to a fiery red, and their cones, or drupes, begin to grow. Soon, these staghorns will have the velvety c…