In the Forest
High on the low spot the forest trees are near bare. There is another chance I could wake to a dusting of snow. If not this time, it will be snow soon.
As the forest clears out, the distance you can see in, like the night, lengthens.
Once this maple is completely barren I will have more of the heart to remove it. Its trunk grows out of the base of the much larger tulip tree and its tall spindly nature constantly threatens to slap the cabin in high winds.
I get close for one last look at the vibrant colors of the Kousa Dogwood. I hope it does this every year right off my front porch. Imagine that as the tree grows larger with time.
The last bits of color in the forest fall to the ground. I will spend the next couple of weeks gathering it up, moving it around and tucking it in for the winter in the more civilized gardens of my clients. In the forest, Gardey don't rake or blow no leaves. Nature has had millenia to perfect her techniques of disposal. Why should I mess with that in the forest?