I love strolling through the changing autumn woods with the smell of crisp air, damp earth, and faint wood-smoke punctuating the crunch of leaves underfoot. The rays of the sun are short at this time of year, but deliciously golden, bathing everything it touches with a warm glow. I haven’t always loved autumn, having spent my childhood in California’s perpetually mellow Bay Area. Now that I’ve lived some years in Canada, and now in the mountains of Northern California, I’ve come to appreciate the melancholy beauty of that unique season.
Even in death, there can be great beauty.
Golden grasses wave good-bye to summer.
There are new and beautiful sights around every corner.
The sweet smell of fresh-cut logs.
The only kind of Black Friday I participated in. #optoutside
You can see the snow on the distant mountains.
mulled thoughts...and cider 