Woods Wanderer

Daylight Savings Time ends and suddenly it’s dark very early in the evening. This always comes as a shock, even though we know it’s coming. Our bodies take a week or so to adjust. But the upside to a morning person like me is that the sun comes up earlier, as well. That means I’m able to catch some beautiful sunrises right before breakfast.

The delightfully colorful fall foliage doesn’t last long here in northern Vermont – a few weeks at best. A couple days of strong winds and the leaves start raining down, exposing naked branches. The trees will stay naked for the next six months. That’s a sober thought.

A hard frost struck a few days ago, a little later than usual. Now the mums I planted in my front yard are dying back, as is all other vegetation. The growing season is over for the year.

I’m scrambling to winterize both house and yard. Took in the garden hoses yesterday, along with the patio furniture. Will seal up the windows and put up driveway markers for the snowplow guy. Yeah, the white stuff will appear very soon.

I’ll be wearing blaze orange during my next hike. Deer hunters will be all over the woods in a week or so. Meanwhile others are getting ready for the holidays. For some people, Christmas is the best time of year. That’s only seven weeks away.

There are still a few relatively warm days left, when a flannel shirt, a sweater or a light jacket is all one needs to be comfortable outdoors. I cherish these bittersweet days as most nature-lovers do. I like kicking up leaves while walking through the woods this time of year. There will be plenty of time to enjoy indoor light and warmth during the frigid months ahead. No need to rush into that.

Tags: hunting season, late autumn, stick season, time change

“Why am I indoors?” I asked myself at noon yesterday after working at my desk all morning. With temps in the 60s, it seemed silly to be inside. After all, a long, cold season lies directly ahead. Even though I’m ready for it, there’s no sense wasting the few warm days left.

I hopped in my car. Judy and I drove down to Dead Creek the day before yesterday to enjoy the warm temps and do a little birding, so I wasn’t in the mood for a long drive again. The woody section of the local rail trail is only ten minutes away. I figured that would do. I drove there, then walked up the wide gravel path, kicking up leaves and spooking a couple garter snakes along the way. I stepped over a few woolly worm caterpillars, as well, warning me that it’s going to be a long, cold winter. Good thing I came out.

There was a little color in the leaves still clinging to the trees, but the so-called peak foliage has been gone for a while now. Between the last peak color and the first skiable snowfall in the mountains, Vermont belongs to Vermonters. I reveled in the beauty and solitude of the quiet woods, ignoring the occasional cyclist passing through.

After walking a mile and a half, I sat down on a knoll overlooking a small pond in a clearing. Crows cawed in the distance. There were also songbirds out there, flitting about in the half-naked trees, but they were too far away to identify. No matter. I just sat there a while, enjoying the warmth and still air, with sunlight filtering through the mostly cloudy sky. I marveled at how quickly the warm season passed this year. The fresh verdure appeared not too long ago, or so it seemed. The days go by a lot faster now that I’m in my 60s.

I took my time walking back to the parking lot. I drove past a farm selling pumpkins for only five bucks and thought about getting one. Sat on the patio in my back yard reading for a while as Canada geese flew overhead. I sat until the sun passed behind the house. Then I caught a chill and went inside. The small bag of nuts on me for the resident chipmunk never came out for my pocket. He never showed. Could Chippy be settled in for winter already? I don’t think so but I’m sure he will be soon.

Tags: late autumn, the warm season, Vermont, walking

Today I went for a walk in the rain. Depressed by the news, frustrated by a failing desktop computer, and annoyed by minor setbacks while running errands this morning, I couldn’t wait for the skies to clear before stretching my legs. So I donned rain hat and jacket then stepped out the door.

A thin drizzle fell as I slipped through a nearby woodlot on a narrow gravel track, making my way to a paved road that loops back onto itself — an easy two-walk. Not a deep woods experience, but it would have to do for now. Dark clouds overhead threatened heavier rain.

I felt better as I made my way past Bud’s quarry before reaching the paved road. The geese that had inhabited the quarry for weeks on end were gone, having flown south. Would more come down from Canada? Hard to say. Late October already. Well into the migration…

Half a mile down the paved road, the drizzle thinned to practically nothing. A slight breeze shook leaves loose from trees already looking thinned out. Here in the Champlain Valley, the foliage is past peak now. No matter. Still plenty of color to delight the eye.

When I broke a sweat, I thought about removing my jacket. But no, it was best not to tempt the rain gods. The clouds overhead were still dark. I cut my pace instead.

While heading back home, I resolved to go for a good long hike in the mountains soon, before deer hunting season begins. Already snow has fallen in the higher elevations. Soon winter would be upon us. And with that thought I took a deep breath, inhaling the leafy, tannic smell of autumn. Then the last of my morning funk dissipated, just like that.

Tags: fall foliage, late autumn, mood change, walking

At Judy’s urging, I stepped away from my literary work yesterday and headed for the Adirondacks to do a day hike. With sunny skies and temps ranging up towards 70 degrees, it would probably be the last nice day this year. Best to take full advantage of it.

I reached the Jay Mountain Wilderness trailhead by 8 a.m. and immediately shot up the trail. My walking stick clicked against the rocks as I kicked up fallen leaves. In my pack I carried everything necessary to spend a night in the woods if it came to that. At my age, you can’t be too cautious.

After an hour of steady uphill hiking, I finally caught a glimpse of my destination: the western lookout on the Jay Mountain Ridge. It looked to be another thousand feet up. A short water break and a deep breath later, I ventured forth.

My legs were just starting to cramp up as I mounted the 3000-foot ridge. I walked a couple hundred feet up a side trail to the lookout for a magnificent 360-degree view of the surrounding landscape. Then, after another short break, I headed east along the ridge, determined to go as far as I could before my legs actually did cramp up.

Remarkably enough, I made it all the way to an unnamed, craggy peak without any cramping. It was a hard traverse up and down lesser peaks along the ridge, but the great views kept me spellbound. Only half a mile short of the summit, I decided to break for lunch. Afterward I retraced my steps back to the trailhead. Seven miles and over 2,000 feet of elevation change was plenty for this 60-something.

Today I’m sore all over but much more relaxed than I was earlier in the week. All the bad news I read about this morning rolled right off me. Whatever. After spending a good day in the wild, the collective folly of humankind doesn’t have the sticking power that it usually has. That alone is reason enough to do a long, hard hike.

Tags: Adirondacks, day hiking, late autumn, mountain views, ridge running

Taking advantage of a two-day, off-season special at a hotel appropriately called The Seaside, Judy and I escaped the leafless landscape of Vermont for the late-season foliage and slightly warmer temps of the Maine coast. As far as Judy is concerned, it’s all about the water, of course – her passion for the ocean matching mine for wild forests.

We arrived on the coast in a driving rain at dusk so we simply went out to dinner then settled into our hotel room for the night. But we stepped out on the beach first thing in the morning, before breakfast. By then the rain had passed, leaving the rising sun all by itself in a calm, clear blue sky. Light jackets were all we needed to keep the early morning chill at bay. We walked the length of Kennebunk Beach, taking in the sight and sound of waves breaking gently to shore, between encounters with a few dogs and their owners. We collected pieces of sea glass as we meandered along, deeply inhaled the salty air, and basked in the negative ions emitted by the sea.

During the middle of the day we did a lot of nothing – window shopping, a nap, another meal, a little cafe sitting. When the sun sunk towards the western horizon, we went back out to walk the shoreline again, enjoying the play of light over water, rock and sand, happy enough to keep things simple.

The next morning we went out for one last oceanside walk before checking out of the hotel and driving back to Vermont. With temps in the 30s, we were bundled up. Still ours was a pleasant, late autumn stroll along the beach. What a shock it was, then, to return home later that evening and find two inches of snow on the ground. From one season to another in the same day. Good thing we got away when we did.

Tags: late autumn, Maine coast, walking the shore

After shipping out packages, I head for the nearby town forest to stretch my legs. No rain today – a rare event lately – with temps up around 50. Not a day to be wasted.

I put blaze orange on myself then on my dog Matika. Not likely that hunters will be in the woods in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week, before rifle season opens, but why take the chance? The extra layer is no big deal.

I kick up dry leaves while hiking along the barely discernible trail. The forest smells like autumn, like so many leaves slowly rotting away. A sliver of blue sky peeks through the otherwise gray sky overhead. A strong November wind kicks up, clattering the naked branches and rattling the beech leaves still clinging to trees. The wind feels ominous, but not as a mere threat of rain. It feels like winter is blowing in. I’m not fooled by the warm temps. That’s temporary.

The forest is lit by muted light. Daylight Savings Time started last weekend so now the sun sets at 4:30.  That’s less than 2 hours away. A short day. And a parade of long nights directly ahead.

Pensive and quiet, I finish the hike a little sooner than expected. My old dog has a hard time getting back into the car. I help her up, then get in and drive away.

Shortly after cresting French Hill, I catch the sun breaking through the clouds in the western sky, illuminating Lake Champlain in the distance. The wind is still blowing but it doesn’t matter so much now. I’m okay with it, with the prospect of winter. Yeah, bring it on.

Tags: darkness, Lake Champlain, late autumn, stick season

It’s no big deal, really. In late autumn we all set our clocks back an hour, back to standard time, thus eliminating daylight saving time. It’s just a social convention that we all acknowledge, or so we tell ourselves. But one look out the window late in the afternoon tells us otherwise. Time change leaves its mark on us – especially on those of us sensitive to the slightest changes of light.

It’s November now, and the length of day here in northern Vermont has just slipped under ten hours. The time change drives this home, leaving us in the dark all evening before going to bed. It’s now dark before I quit working for the day. After the long days of summer, I find this a tough adjustment to make.

It’s November now, and most of the leaves have fallen from the trees. Even though this has been an unseasonably warm autumn, we all know what’s coming. I keep reminding myself that I have to get the snow tires on my car soon, real soon.

While the hunters are still tramping around the woods, I’ve called it quits for the most part. Oh sure, I hike or snowshoe during the colder months, but not with the same vigor that I do during the warmer ones.  This is the time of year when I do more writing than hiking. Everything in its season, I suppose.

Still it feels like the sun is setting on the growing season, on the season of lush vegetation. The barefoot days are long gone, and nature’s fecundity is giving way to its dormancy. That’s hard on a guy like me who’s constantly cultivating the wildness within. Now that wildness feels somewhat abstract. I’m spending an inordinate amount of time indoors, looking out windows. And the green world is slowly fading to brown. The heat and sweat of summer is but a memory.

Tags: late autumn, seasonal change, sunset, time change

Even though I have plenty of work to do, it’s simply too nice a day to stay indoors. I ask my dog Matika if she thinks we should go for a walk and, well, she’s all over it. So we head out.

Not in the mood to drive anywhere, I walk through local woods and along back roads. This isn’t the wild forest I prefer, but it’ll do for now.

With temps reaching into the 60s, shirtsleeves is the way to go. Late autumn light illuminates leaves still clinging to tree branches. At midday the sun is pretty bright. Yet long shadows make it clear what time of year it is.

I kick up a few leaves as I walk. It seems the thing to do. The woods are golden brown. Quite beautiful, actually.

I amble along as if I have all the time in the world. In a way I do. The difference between rushing and not rushing on this two-mile loop is only ten minutes. I can certainly spare that.

Back home, I pour myself a cup of cider to celebrate the season properly. Then I open the windows before setting back to work. But there’s a chill in the air that I hadn’t noticed while walking. The windows won’t stay open long.

Tags: fall foliage, late autumn, walking

Late October and the leaves are coming down. A few trees are still bright but most are past peak now. Today is cool and overcast. I wear a hat and jacket as I walk. Yesterday I saw the first specks of snow in my back yard. It’s that time of year.

Last week, while driving a busy New Hampshire highway in early morning traffic, I hit a deer. I was going 65 miles an hour like every other driver. Didn’t see it coming. Two seconds later or earlier and the deer would have been hit by someone else.

The deer bounced off the passenger’s side of my little car then disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. From the damage it did to my car, I know it’s dead. The car is totaled. I’m okay. Had it been a moose instead of a deer, though, it would have been a different story.

I’m in a funk today, partly because winter is imminent and partly because I’m not enjoying the hassle of dealing with the insurance company. Being without a vehicle doesn’t help. But there’s something else going on in my head as well. One moment it’s another beautiful day and I’m going about my business per usual; the next I could be snuffed out of existence just like that. No warning. Boom! and it’s over.

It’s a grim thought for a grim time of year, certainly. Halloween is only a few days away. Halloween is the time of year when we dress up in funny costumes and make light of death. And so we should. If we stared sober at it during every moment that we’re awake, we’d go mad. So go ahead and have fun with it. The reaper catches up to us all soon enough.

Tags: death, deer, Halloween, highway, late autumn, road kill

Judy and I were both craving fresh apples so I drove to an orchard in the Champlain Islands today to pick up another bag or two. On the way home, I stopped at Niquette Bay State Park to stretch my legs and run my dog, Matika. With temps in the 40s and mostly grey skies spitting rain, I wore wool clothes for the occasion. Yeah, it has come to this.

The sun played hide-and-go-seek with me as I hiked. I kicked up dried leaves, marveling at the rust brown foliage still clinging to red oaks. Like beeches, oaks give up their leaves reluctantly. I admire that quality.

With tree trunks casting long shadows in mid-afternoon, I couldn’t help but think about the approaching dark season. My eyes gravitated to hollowed-out and dead trees still standing and on the ground as I walked. They seem to dominate the forest in the fall, or are they just easier to see now that the canopy is mostly down?

Three days shy of Halloween, death is everywhere, but the skeleton and tombstone decorations are mostly in jest. Children – those immortals among us – are amused by it. Not so much those of us getting up there in years. We are more cheerful and upbeat when the days are long and things are growing all around us. Beyond Halloween is a long, cold season that we must simply endure.

As I finished my walk, I tried hard to be in the moment and enjoy what’s left of autumn. But the fresh snow illuminating the Green Mountains and the sleet pelting the windshield of my car as I drove home made it difficult to ignore the obvious. I grabbed an apple and took a big bite. It tasted bittersweet. The last harvest. I both love and hate this time of year.

Tags: apples, death, Halloween, late autumn, the dark season, walking