Cool air nips my nose, encasing my bare fingertips in an icy glove—a feeling I’ve not felt for many months. The sun remains low in the sky long into the morning, skirting above the mountain peaks and ridges— high enough to illuminate the autumn yellows high above my head, but leaving the rest of the forest mostly in shadow.
More and more colour leaches into the foliage around me, but the transition feels slower this year. I am still predominantly surrounded by luscious green, though my eyes seek out the yellows, reds, and oranges.
The day is calm—only the gentlest breath of a breeze dances through the tree tops above my head, pulling loose a few dying leaves to twirl and dip toward the earth below where they settle onto their mossy bed.
Every step I take must be cautiously approached as mushrooms sprout in bountiful proportions; they push up through the moist earth and the soft moss. Many are untouched, likely toxic, and left alone by even the forest critters.
See you next time,
♡ Whitney
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I love the way you captured light on the leaves and mushrooms, Whitney.
My husband and I took a walk in our local park along the Grand River in central Michigan. Our path was full of tall, mature oaks, maples and beeches with leaves in various stages of turning yellow, orange and red. We saw only one other pair of hikers probably because a gentle rain was falling. It's the first time I needed to wear gloves this season. The air was so clean and fresh and exhilarating.
When I read your oats and gaze down n your beautiful pictures I am transported to previous camping trips in the Redwoods
I now live in Florida - far from such climes