Five years ago, I was in the middle of my final term at Waterloo.  I still had one more semester to go, but I knew that I'd be spending that term in Brandon, MB at my final internship.  I was in the clinic during the week, and had only one large assignment/presentation, which I was lucky enough to get over with during the first couple weeks.  So, with a car (a luxury I didn't have during my first two years living in Waterloo), and an open weekend schedule, I spent my days doing some exploring in southern Ontario.

One beautiful fall Saturday, I drove to the Niagara region, winding my way along roads with wineries, until I eventually ended up in Niagara-on-the-Lake.  I wandered up and down the main road, stopping to browse briefly in some stores.  And then I took a side street, and headed towards the lake, ending up in a small park, alongside the water.  I was walking down towards the water, but as I walked, I turned to look around at the park, and I saw this:

I remember being so struck by the beauty of this tree, as I looked up to its stunning display of fall colours.  The tree stood by itself in the middle of the park, and was so vivid in its colours, showing a whole range of red, oranges and yellows - but yet, I could have easily missed it, had I not looked up and around me.  I could have kept my eyes straight ahead towards the lake.  I didn't have to look around - there was plenty of beauty to be seen straight ahead as well.  But because I took the time to look around, and not just straight ahead, I was treated to this.  Even today, five years later, when I think of fall colours beauty, this tree quickly comes to mind.

Unfortunately, I'm not always the best at taking the time to look around me.  I become too focused on looking straight ahead at exactly where I'm going or want to be going, that I forget to look around while I'm on my journey, and take in the beauty that surrounds me at that moment in time.  I don't want to miss seeing more of these trees in my life.

As I was looking through my pictures from that fall, and remembering this tree, I was reminded of a short essay by one of my favourite authors, Shauna Niequist, in her book, 'Cold Tangerines".  It's called 'The Red Tree', and is a good reminder to look up: 

... and as I opened the garage door again, I stopped in my tracks.  In the park across the street, one of the tallest trees, twice as high as a two-story house, was the brightest, most insane, lit-from-within red I have ever seen.  And it took my breath away, for two reasons.

First, because it was so beyond beautiful, and second, because I had not noticed one step of its turning.  I had been in and out of my driveway a zillion times in the last two weeks and could not have told you if the tree was even still standing or not.  As I stood there in the driveway, I realized that I had stopped seeing the most important things to see.

I saw the to-do list, the accumulation of things in the house that would have to be shoved in closets for the parties.  I saw the stack of half-finished ramblings and Post-Its all over my desk that were not turning themselves into a brilliant talk like I hoped they would.  I saw the pile of things to go to the dry cleaner and the pile of work to be done and the pile of promises I had made and couldn't possibly keep.

I saw the long list of meetings and projects at work and the long list of phone calls to return.  I had gifts to buy and flights to schedule and oil to change and people to celebrate.  But I wasn't seeing the people or the celebrations.  I wasn't seeing anything beyond the chaos of my life and my home and my calendar.

... It looked like a full calendar, a whirl of events and to-do lists and grocery lists.  But underneath it all, the month was a greatest hits album, a collection of stories, one after another, of the rich and gorgeous ways that God tells his stories through our lives.  What looked like a shower or a dinner or one more night to clean up after was actually one of God's best gifts, worth celebrating, worth seeing.  What looks like a plain old city street is just that until you lift up your eyes and see the red tree, and then you realize that this is no plain city street.  This is a masterpiece just here for the week, our very own wonder of the world, and I just about missed it.

And just because Ontario is stunningly beautiful in the fall, I thought I'd share just a few more beauties from that day:

I loved watching these three men, sitting down by the lake, having a discussion.  Aside from the tree, they are one of the things I remember most vividly about this day.  They make me think of the beauty and simplicity of time spent with good friends.