There’s a phrase in German for days like this: Goldener Oktober. It describes those autumn days when the sky is clear, the air is cool, and the trees look as if they are ablaze.
I love talking about the weather. I say it’s a British thing, but I’m not completely sure that’s true. To help my German and to keep up to date with the latest weather forecast, I watch weather channels on YouTube. At the time of writing, there are autumn storms affecting Europe. This isn’t unusual. However, the trees are still full of leaves, which makes them heavy and vulnerable. A storm now could bring down branches, or worse.
Today I had the chance to enjoy the nice weather, literally the calm before the storm. Standing in the sun among the autumnal colours, I remembered an old folk tale.
The bird that couldn’t fly south
A small bird hurt its wing and couldn’t fly south with the others. One by one, the flocks left for warmer climes, and the little bird was left behind to find shelter and get through the winter alone.
At first it went to the most beautiful trees, the big ones with the richest, fullest leaves. But they turned it away. Some were too busy, some too proud, some too suspicious of a stranger.
The bird began to feel very alone. In the end, it was the plain trees that helped: the pine, the spruce, the juniper. They didn’t have glorious leaves, but they were the trees that were always there, whatever the season and whatever the weather. They gave the bird a branch to shelter on, out of the wind. Some even offered berries.
When winter came, the wind stripped the proud trees bare. But it left the kind ones alone.
And that, so the story goes, is why the evergreens stay green all winter.
What the tale means to me
I’ve lived in Germany since 2020, and I think anyone who has moved to another country, or who has been through a major change in their life, knows a bit about being the bird that stayed behind. You look around for support and are naturally drawn to the most impressive, most visible things.
But it’s often the quieter, more subtle things that are there to help you. It could be the neighbour who checks on you, the colleague who explains the letter you can’t understand, or the person who’s just there, selflessly.
I’m not here to criticise the showy trees or suggest they’re villains. They’re just doing what trees do in autumn. It’s their natural cycle, and it brings benefits of its own. Fallen leaves provide food and shelter for insects, and as they decompose, they feed the soil. It’s natural to be cautious sometimes, but I think we can usually sense, by gut instinct, when someone close to us genuinely needs help. But it’s a good reminder to value the evergreens in your life, and maybe to try to be one for someone else.