So I was up at three yesterday, doin' Important Stuff, and when I got back home in the early afternoon instead of taking a nap--which is what Mojo felt like doing, quite desperately--I instead decided to take a quick hike to my spot, since it looked and felt like one of the best last days of autumn. The lake gets REALLY COLD and windy once it freezes over, and the snow gets knee- and waist-deep, and a casual hike turns into some sort of endurance death march instead of a lazy stroll. And when you reach the lake, instead of "ahhh, here I am at the lake" you are instead sliced to ribbons by this freezing, freezing biting wind coming off the ice. So I tend to only hike down there in the winter when my Favorite Husband FORCES ME TO.
But for your continuing envy and edification, I took my cell phone with me, so in addition to fielding a call from my Favorite Older Sister I was able to document autumn's last gasp in Mojo's neck of the woods.
The ferns are mostly frost-bitten now, which turns them a lovely shade of white. But here are there in the woods you'll stumble on protected pockets where they're still green.
Like here, for example. Might not look like much, but a hundred years ago this used to be the town's school. And if you walk about a quarter mile into the woods past this, you come across this AWESOME rock wall out in the middle of nowhere. But I didn't go that way, so I didn't take pictures. Nyeah.
We shall call this one "The Many Shades of Beeches". From green to brown. What I like about beeches is, they keep their leaves on all winter. So after they turn brown they start to fade in the sun and wind. They end up turning almost white, like the ferns, and they become tissue-thin as the winter progresses. So if you're the sort of idiot who thinks wading through knee-deep snow some winter night in the middle of the woods, and you stop for a minute to rest, if there's any wind at all you hear this whispering sound, which are the beech leaves.
So here is my spot again, ho-hum. The sun was nice and warm, still, so I was able to take a brief nap until a very wet dog decided to flop on me.
I have never tried this particular technique for drying off, but Rosie swears by it. If you stop anywhere longer than fifteen seconds, she turns into flop-dog and starts rolling like an idiot. Looks like the late afternoon sun was especially orangey...