But then, as I entered the shelter of the woods, I felt the trail beckon me on with its muted beauty and calmer air.
As I rounded the end of the bay, the vista opened up to reveal some remnants of autumn color on the mountainside. But I also noted how low the water was, too low to reflect the mountain's profile on its mirroring surface.
And along the shore, the mud flats reached many yards further off shore than I'd seen them just a couple of weeks before. We'd had so much rain the past few days, I'd hoped the water level would start to rise. But not so. I sure hope we get lots of snow this winter, enough to make up for the dearth we had last year and maybe start to refill this glacial kettle lake, which has no other significant source of water.
To counteract this disturbing vision, I looked around for whatever beauties I could find, delighting in these puffs of bright yellow that floated in the air at the end of Witch Hazel twigs.
The Maple-leaved Viburnum never disappoints! Its distinctive rosy-coral leaves filled the darkening woods with vivid color.
And what a powerful punctuation of RED! this Highbush Blueberry added to the shoreline shrubbery!
And down on the ground, the multicolored leaves were like vivid jewels cast at my feet.
And what a splendid hedge of Black Huckleberry bushes lines the sandy banks of the lake's north shore!
The huckleberry leaves are such a deep ruby red, they almost seem to give off heat, as if from glowing embers.
On my way home, as I rounded the south shore of Moreau Lake the sky brightened a bit and illuminated the still-vivid foliage up on the mountainside.
I stopped for a moment just to absorb this glowing beauty, expecting that it will soon grow dim. More rain and wind and cold -- and even SNOW! -- are forecast for tomorrow.