After Trailapalooza, all I wanted was a gentle stroll today.
It was cloudy and cool, and the air was still at Moreau Lake.
Everyone has been saying that the fall colors seem a little muted this year.
I know, we are spoiled.
It’s still a beautiful time of year.
Parts of the woods are still very green, like this trail along the lakeshore.
A pileated woodpecker, taking a short break from dismantling a dead tree.
I’ve been hearing white-throated sparrows – you may know their spring call as
“Ol-l-l-d Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody!”
But what we are hearing now, from thickets and deep underbrush, is
“Sam Pea ?- dee – ur - rrup!”
like a damaged tape-recording of the real thing.
This year’s fledglings are starting on their first migration.
The sparrow youth are on the wing,
noted Henry Thoreau in his journal of October 19,1856.
These two did not flee with their companions when I passed by, but sat awhile, as if to satisfy their own curiosity about me.
Even on a grey day, the trees compensate with color
And the water takes on sympathetic hues.