A Year in the Woods: October

The leaves are turning and falling and the prevailing sense of the wood is damp and dense and darkening. The squirrels glut themselves on the first of the falling nuts, the mushrooms begin to appear, and the streams and mill pond swell with the autumn rains. Just past the equinox when the shortness of the days really becomes apparent, I look to the russets and golds and reds of the trees to brighten my world.


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