Azure skies alternate with heavy cloaks of fog. The valley between here and Duvall is often filled with a vanilla custard of mist. Webs made by spiders the size of dimes lace the trees, and fireworks of red and gold blaze against the stately darkness of the Douglas-firs and other evergreens. One of the prettiest autumns ever. I go around one corner and feel as if I'm back in the New England of my college years; I go down another street, shuffling through leaves, and am transported back to the Long Island suburb of my childhood, knowing that the cold, damp walk will end in a brightly lit and welcoming home.
 |
| Native vine maples and other species in a garden |
 |
| On the neighborhood loop walk |
 |
| Red plum and (possibly) aspen in fall color |
 |
| A weeping species of Japanese maple |
 |
| Aspen on bright, warm day early in the season |
 |
| Morning dew nearly all gone |
 |
| The Douglas-firs resemble Ents on the march on foggy mornings |
 |
| The entire garden is filled with these pinwheels in the morning |
 |
| Spirea dressing up already in Christmas colors |
 |
| The rather saucy mushrooms springing up in the front yard |
 |
| Blueberry bushes blaze |
 |
| View from office window, red maple in foreground |
I agree that the spiderwebs unmasked by fog are wonderful. I walk the neighborhood delighted by how many there are, how whole hedges are filled with the tiny webs of trapdoor spiders and how a tiny orb web hangs between the branches of a birch I walk beneath.
ReplyDeleteAnd every window you look out at this time of year seems to have a doily draped over it, too!
Delete