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wayfaringwordhackWe've had some amazingly beautiful days of late, but the mornings and evenings have that chill bite that lets you know autumn is preparing winter's way.
The maples are ablaze with color: yellow, orange, red, purple-black. Ferns taller than I form a separate, russet forest beneath the lofty boughs of maritime pine, plantations of which cover the Gascogny Coast. Pine cones and acorns fallen from golden-leafed oaks litter the ground, and pumpkin-orange mushrooms as big as my hand sprout on logs and amidst still-green grass.
The maples are ablaze with color: yellow, orange, red, purple-black. Ferns taller than I form a separate, russet forest beneath the lofty boughs of maritime pine, plantations of which cover the Gascogny Coast. Pine cones and acorns fallen from golden-leafed oaks litter the ground, and pumpkin-orange mushrooms as big as my hand sprout on logs and amidst still-green grass.
Soëlie is getting acquainted with fall, old enough at last to explore on her own. I just wish for her sake (and for mine) the air smelled more consistently of autumn's goodness--mouldering leaves, mushrooms, woodsmoke--instead of the stench of the nearby Smurfit-Kappa's paper mill.