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.
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| Native vine maples and other species in a garden |
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| On the neighborhood loop walk |
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| Red plum and (possibly) aspen in fall color |
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| A weeping species of Japanese maple |
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| Aspen on bright, warm day early in the season |
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| Morning dew nearly all gone |
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| The Douglas-firs resemble Ents on the march on foggy mornings |
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| The entire garden is filled with these pinwheels in the morning |
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| Spirea dressing up already in Christmas colors |
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| The rather saucy mushrooms springing up in the front yard |
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| Blueberry bushes blaze |
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| View from office window, red maple in foreground |
