...and dropping its wet leaves all over the soggy yard and sidewalk.
Saturday was rainy too.
On Friday, however, there were...
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Wild turkeys taking the air
Oak leaves dancing across the road
Still water spangled with floating stars
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The air is crisp, with temps in the upper 40s, and a biting wind that makes me wish for better cold-weather gear.
A few miles out of town, I see a flock of turkeys crossing the road several hundred yards ahead.
Autumn's colours are muted now. The bright leafy flames of maple and ash - yellow and orange and vermilion - have been blown out by the gusty wind. Now the oaks are taking center stage in shades of copper, bronze, and red...
...with a bit of dark gold provided by what I think are hickory trees.
My beloved birches are not going out in a blaze of sunny glory this year - instead they're fading to an indeterminate brown before dropping their leaves in discouragement. (The drought has been really hard on them.) But nothing can take away their slim, upright beauty:
All around in the trees and fields are shades of rust, green and champagne, with a deep blue sky overhead.
The wind has not ceased to bite on this ride, and to be honest the chill is taking some of the fun out of the exercise. (How quickly things change; not so very long ago I was complaining of the heat and humidity.)
But the views at my favourite marshy corner take my mind off the cold. Black water spangled with leaves and reflecting subtle autumn colours:
Detail of a bolt on the bridge:
The bolt in context:
My shadowy reflection in the dark water, with leaves floating by on their way to winter:
The beauty of twig and shadow:
At this corner can usually be found some flowers that have outlived the first few frosts. But the Queen Anne's Lace, in response to the cold, have pulled their skirts up over their heads to reveal ragged undergarments and fuzzy stems:
One brave, shivering knapweed still shines with the lost beauty of summer...
...while its brother has already put on winter woollies.
A row of red oaks marches away down the verge, providing a scarlet canopy of leaves. Some are softer and round of lobe, beginning to curl like old leather...
...while others are jagged, still glossy, and flat. All are beautiful.
...of an apparently one-armed cyclist. (The Venus de Velo?) :)
And so to home, and warmth, and dinner.
I must say, the slothful urges that accompany chilly weather seem to have struck early this year - I've only ridden twice in the last two weeks. (The unceasing strong winds haven't helped.) Though I don't mind going out walking, cycling is less appealing in the cold. Is the season over already? We'll see.
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