Under the autumn maples

And fall is upon us. Under the trees at Bear Creek Nature Park (on the Oyster River) it rained steadily. A warm, dry, orange rain; maple leaves weaving a cozy blanket for the earth beneath.

The woods were glorious, if the ravens were not:

One, or maybe two ravens. Easier to hear than to see.

Down below, we walked in semi-dusk; above on oddly twisted trunks, the leaves blazed in the sunlight.

In spots, the sun filtered through to the ground. Here, a few dead branches, woodpecker-drilled bark, moss, lichen, trailing blackberry, and the maple leaves.

Maple tree out in the open.

And underneath that maple leaf blanket, a miniature flower:

Unidentified. White, bell-like flowers with pale lilac veins.

Ground cover, after the rains

Crossing an unused picnic area at Oyster Bay, I almost stepped on the remains of a mushroom, bedded on soaked leaves.

Red alder and cottonwood leaves, half a gilled mushroom. I couldn't find the stalk.

Directly under the cottonwood trees, walking on their dropped leaves released a sweet, fruity aroma, with overtones of cinnamon. I had to stop and just breathe.