The Subtle Season

November!  It's that time of year here in northeastern New York I call "The Subtle Season." The bright florals of Summer faded long ago, the glorious Technicolor hues of Autumn have dimmed, and the sparkling snows and crystalline ices of Winter have yet to arrive.  But still, much beauty persists for those of us who love the tawny tans, cinnamon browns, old golds and deep russets that color the countryside now.  While I gazed at the landscape pictured here --  high rolling hills beneath a powerline that follows a mountain range along the Hudson River -- I thought of the lovely textures and colors of a fine Scottish tweed. Even the seedpods of Bee Balm in the foreground reminded me of the braided leather buttons on a Harris Tweed Shooting Coat.

Amid the forest-green conifers and russet-leaved oaks that line the clearcut here, this Witch Hazel tree stood out, both for its size and for the brighter yellow of its branches thick with flowers.

The oaks do provide most of what remains of the colorful autumn foliage now, but the grassy, ferny, shrub-studded rocky meadows are lovely in their own right.

I believe this yellow-leaved shrub might be an invasive non-native honeysuckle, so I was not at all disturbed to see it being overwhelmed by the fluffy seed-heads of Virgin's Bower vines.

Pale-yellow, curving seedheads of Foxtail Grass stood high above the other meadow grasses and low-growing plants.

Vast patches of our native lance-leaved, linen-tan Deer Tongue Grass filled areas under the lines.

Where tiny rills dampened their banks, mosses like Common Haircap spread across the ground.  This mossy patch was punctuated by a large prickly rosette of thistle leaves (species unknown).

When this high trail descended toward the river, I followed it down to the banks of the Hudson.  There I stood in awe at the serene beauty of this scene, where still-colorful forested mountains reached all the way to the water's edge, and tiny pine-studded islands dotted the mirror-still surface of the river.

Shuffling through the fallen leaves along the banks, I discovered this pretty pair of acorn caps, each of which appeared to be etched with an image of a pale-gold flower surrounded by a dark brown wreath.

This frond of Long Beech Fern was remarkable for its total lack of color, truly striking against its background of still colorful fallen leaves.

While kneeling to photograph that fern, I thought I detected some movement out of the corner of my eye and turned to notice this hole at the base of a tree.  Nothing there.  But then this little beady-eyed, pink-nosed, white-chinned face suddenly appeared peeking out at me.  The small Deer Mouse quickly disappeared when I pointed my camera in its direction. But the dear little critter promptly re-appeared for just an instant, just long enough to snap this slighty blurry photo.  How cute is this?  I was happy to see that this wee one has a nice sheltered spot to spend the winter. Or so I hope.