In the southeast US deciduous leaves say “So long” to chlorophyll as late as mid-November. Trees slowly add some reds, oranges, and golds to the remaining greens; the water grabs any hue that heads its way, and voila! Radiant bands of color ripple down the creek.
Leaf mats jazzin’ up the creek. The view from farther away:
The long view:
Sounds made by the water are soothing. Leaves got themselves in a jam.
Leaves drifting on their way.
Some leaves sink to the murky depths:
We have to step around twigs and stickers, commonly found in wild woods like these. We slap branches away at face level, too. These woods are dense and the going’s a bit rough, but I can still walk here. Some of the terrain alongside the creek is even more rugged.
We’re leaving it to you, Evergreen … for a time.
We hear owls hooting, first one, then another from a different direction, then a third hoot from off another way. A deer snorts as we move closer, rustles the foliage, snorts again. Dusk is on the way.
These wild waters and the forest are right out my door, in my yard, and I know them well. I have been fortunate to live here. Why would anyone want to tear down woods like these? We hear of it way too often. Here’s a link to my environmental essay, “Tributary”:
Up close and personal on a small creek: a chance to play with the visuals by zooming in close on the water. These photos aren’t truly in focus, but the rippling creates some color blends I find pleasing. Nature has ways of mixing and placing color that always has painters in hot pursuit. Cameras don’t capture the natural color data exactly as the human eye sees it, but sometimes retain a high degree of that balance, IMO.
The view upstream:
Coming in from the woods, we always face this question: “Where y’all been? I’ve been holding down the fort!”
The Bobcat in Autumn
Now we’ve had a night-long rain, and the creek is roarin’. The floating leaves washed away; trees just kept shedding. Nature, always in motion.