Woodsy fantasies

My Sunday ramble produced so many photos that you may expect to see them throughout this week. When I reported yesterday that I stopped nearly every 3-4 feet to take a photo, I really wasn’t exaggerating very much.

Sunday was the kind of fall day that makes fall a season that’s really, really tough to beat. The day began with a nip in the crystal clear air and then warmed up through the day so that I ended my fall walk with my sweater pulled off and my sleeves rolled up above my elbows.

I would willingly have walked all day, but considering how often I stopped to take a photo, I doubt I would have covered more than 5 miles. As it was, a 2-mile walk took over an hour, and if I hadn’t been keeping half an eye on the sun as it started to dip behind the mountain, my walk likely would have taken longer.

Today, my moss photos will be featured. Green and soft, for me heaven might well be a bed that feels the way moss looks and smells, with that gentle “give” that’s never too harsh or too floppy. The idea of a moss bed is better than the reality. Moss is both damp and lumpy, though it’s hard to rid myself of the fantasy of a warm bed of moss on a nice, flat surface.

The fall colors right now are highly variable. Some trees are nicely yellowed; others are still green, and some are even bare of leaves. The variability is extending the time that I am seeing some color, but it is also diluting the overall effect. I must say, though, I’m enjoying the idea that the color change isn’t over in three days time, even if this isn’t turning out to be a brilliant year for fall color. For the last few years, the peak of the color change has been when I’m at work during the day and couldn’t enjoy it very much. This year it’s not as exciting, but at least I’m getting to see it. Some year, I’d like to have it both ways, but that’s even less likely than the fantasy of lying on a warm bed of moss on a nice, flat surface.