lavendertook

Here's an interesting special effect nature produces that I hadn't noticed before. Sunday, the day after the big storm, it was sunny, cold, and windy. In the early afternoon, I watched wisps of snow blowing off branches and through the trees out my window, and as they'd pick up sunlight, they looked like someone took a handful of gold glitter and tossed it into the wind.


That spot of light in this pic is not the sun, which is higher in the sky above the confines of this pic, but a sungold snow cloud. Specially ordered for Philip Pullman fans. There's a couple more pics of the effect under the cut.
( Follow the billows of gold dust above the silver white blanket . . .  )

The treetops, together with their reflection in the lake, look like fiery lips, the setting sun kissing the tops of the trees goodnight. We're looking from the southwest corner of the lake back toward the stone landings. That red ball in the middle is the sugar maple I showed you a few entries before. It don't need no stinking sun touching it to shine brightly. I only wish we had some blue sky in this shot.
( Come see the trees the sun has kissed . . . )

Just some more golden otherworldly views of sunset in autumn on Greenbelt Lake. Here we're looking back at the stone landings we passed as we now look toward the east end of the lake.
( Follow if you will . . . )

So as we continue on around to the west side of the lake, the sun that emerges from under the cloud bank is not the same one that descended therein. And little does this couple here know that, like us, they are now in the universe of Maxfield Parrish.
( Take the hidden paths that run . . . )

Just more pics of that red maple. BTW, all these pics are still from one day in October, over a month ago--the leaves are pretty much gone here now.
( And here . . . )

Ah, sugar . . . Sugar maple, brightest of them all! It's what makes New England and Ontario especially so grand in the fall. I'm not sure how far up north in Canada they do a good display--please chime in, Canadian flistmates. We don't have so many here, and there are fewer south of here. They kept a long display here this year, though many of them got rained off by their peak, and I guess most of us humans got rained in from seeing them. I love them pre-peak best, though, when they still have a lot of green to contrast with the flames.
( You got me wanting you . . .  )

The focus isn't very sharp in these pics, but the colors are so vivid I figured I'd show them to you anyway. We started on the east end of the lake, and we're going along the northern shore and are nearing the west end now. Across the lake from this picnic shelter you can sort of make out the opening of the south branch or fork of the lake.
( Following the kaleidoscope on the southern shore . . . )

Looking up to the tree tops and seeing blue sky between brightly colored leaves is one of the joys of life.
( Bright stuff by the water. . . )

Now we're on the path going around the lake and you can catch a glimpse of it through these trees. There's a wider opening where you can see more of the lake, but I like looking out between these ivy-covered trunks. Ivy and moss always add a more primal and mystical touch to the setting, as does the late afternoon sun. There's undoubtedly some hobbits hiding among the undergrowth, watching for Elves to pass by.
( Along the path . . .  )

Today I bring you roads of earth and water.


We're still on the path leading down to the lake.


This creek is the one we crossed over two days ago and is flowing beside the path. This view is from the often algae-covered wading pool it flows into, just before you reach the path that circles the lake. On a sunny day in spring and summer, you can often see 20 to 30 turtles sunning themselves on the rocks, branches, and banks of the pool.

As always, click any pic to embiggen.

I told mews1945 I'd try to post pics I took a couple of weekends ago as I walked around Greenbelt Lake, so I'll go do that one or two pics at a time, and try to keep them coming. The fall we had 2 years ago was probably the gold standard for beautiful leaf turning in this area, and I posted a bunch of pics then and never did upload all of them. We'll see how many of this year's I can show you. With the wind and rain the last couple of weeks, leaves have dropped and browned out more quickly this year, but 2 weeks ago was a good beginning of peak.



This is the creek I cross over at the entrance to the lake right behind the community center and down the woody hill I live on.



Tuxie here is overlooking that woody hill. Yesterday afternoon, we had an exciting, slightly frightening, but exhilarating event to watch as a huge flock of migrating grackles--sleek black birds with an iridescent sheen like the rainbows in oil puddles--took a travel break in the trees surrounding our building. The kids, Tuxie and Moo, took their stations in the windowed sun room, but Saki was sitting in the foyer oblivious to this prime time Feline Event of the Century, so I picked her up and put her purring on the watchtower scratching post in the sun room and we all settled down to watch them swoop and flutter all around us, their presence doubled by their shadows racing across the ground below. And the cacophony around us through the screens, loud, raucous, yet musical still, was wondrous. After about 20 minutes, the swarm took to the sky road and continued on south. Two thumbs, and paws, up for that natural performance.

It balanced out the more prosaic and unfortunate bird event later in the day, when I dropped the pan of turkey thighs I was roasting and spattered me and the floor with turkey grease and marinade. Could have been worse, as I'm thankful for the absence of cats in this scenario, who were also good about staying back from investigating the accident scene when I shooed them.

Yes, there were actually no hobbits mentioned in this post. It happens sometimes. Not too often though.