It was 63 when we left the house, balmy by November standards. The woods were pretty much bare, and the trail was covered with a deep blanket of leaves. As we walked, wood frogs leaped from the cover of leaves, escaping our boots. These frogs actually freeze during the winter, burrowing just under the leaf litter to hibernate. Perhaps they were taking advantage of the warm weather to hunt for bugs. Spring peepers could be heard throughout the woods.
The colors in November are subtle here, the blazing trees now mostly bare. But color there is, if you look carefully. This leaf still holds the remnants of an earlier shower.
|Big tooth aspen leaf|
November challenges us to find beauty in patterns, too, like this fungus growing on the side of a downed tree.
|Turkey tail fungus|
Grasses give a splash of color and texture as they die back for winter.
This fern frond stood out against a backdrop of dead leaves, moss and pine needles.
Milkweed was exploding across the small meadow, and the air smelled of dried goldenrod.
This late in the season much of the color that remains is low to the ground, like this tiny oak sapling. The fuchsia of its veins is startling in this dull landscape.
Mosses drape themselves over every available surface, enjoying the damp, cool weather. There are
12,000 species of moss, so I am not going to try to id this!
A white oak leaf rests on a dead log.
Lisa found this leaf, one of the last blazes of color in the woods. We couldn't find the tree it came from, so it must have blown in from elsewhere. I couldn't resist putting it on a background of moss, a harbinger of the coming holidays.