The Brown Season

Dreary and cold today, with enough of a wind to worm its way down under my scarf.  If I hadn't been starving for outdoor activity throughout this long holiday weekend, I might have refused my friend Sue's invitation to join her for a walk at Moreau Lake.  But once I set out along the shore of the lake, with the surrounding mountains reflected in the new thin ice that covered the back bay, I was awfully glad to be there.  We saw not another soul while we ambled the shore, except for a pair of Bufflehead ducks that kept their distance in a patch of open water, too far away for us to photograph them.

I think of this late-autumn time as the "brown season,"  when the flowering plants have long lost their colors and the snow has not yet covered the naked earth with brilliant white.  It takes a bit more of an effort, now, to notice the many beauties the earth still has to offer.  In the case of this fluffy bunch of Phragmites, I had to overcome my grudging distaste for its invasive habits to appreciate its soft loveliness.

Brown-on-brown is the prevalent coloration now, from palest ecru to cinnamon to tobacco-leaf to Moroccan leather.   These dainty asters growing along the oak-leaf-strewn beach were as pretty as Baby's Breath.

 Sue found a whole cluster of Earth Star fungi on the sandy shore, adding their cadaverous hues to the late-fall color scheme.

She also spotted this handsome group of gilled fungi, aged to a rich rusty brown.

The Shadblow twigs were tipped with pointed buds, bright-brown and edged with gold, as if Mother Nature had draped the branches with Christmas lights.

We did find a few splashes of brilliant color, such as these red-tipped Evening Primrose basal rosettes.

These Green-capped Jelly Clubs were a bit of a surprise, since this fungus usually prefers damp mossy spots instead of dry sandy beaches.  Sue noticed the greenish caps first, a bit shriveled with age, and we didn't see the bright yellow stalks until we brushed away the sand
.