I took a walk yesterdat down Rarick Road, through Hollyhock Hollow and alongside the Onesquathaw Creek.
Fall is certainly in the air.
The trees haven’t completely made up their minds yet. There is still plenty of green, but yellow and gold are beginning to work their way through the woods. Leaves are collecting along the edge of the road, and the Onesquathaw is running low enough that rocks normally surrounded by moving water are now part of the landscape.
It was surprisingly quiet.
The only bird making much of an effort to announce itself was a Blue Jay. That seems appropriate somehow. When most of the woods are growing quieter, you can usually count on a Blue Jay to have something to say.
I also noticed several interesting yellow mushrooms growing in a grassy area beside the road. I don’t know what they were, and perhaps that doesn’t matter. I noticed them. I stopped. I looked. I took a picture.
That’s enough sometimes.
I enjoy fall, although perhaps enjoy isn’t quite the right word.
There is something melancholy about it.
Spring feels like anticipation. Everything is about to happen.
Summer feels like abundance. Everything is happening.
Fall is different.
Fall reminds you that everything has a season.
The creek gets lower. The birds become quieter. Leaves change color and eventually let go. The woods begin opening themselves back up, revealing things that have been hidden behind green leaves all summer.
Maybe that’s why I like walking here this time of year.
Nothing along Rarick Road was particularly spectacular today. No bear to wrestle. No rare bird. No great discovery.
Just a quiet road, a low creek, a noisy Blue Jay, some yellow mushrooms, and an old guy paying attention.
Not a bad way to spend part of an October afternoon.
—Ron