The colors of November

Around here, October is bright. But while it seems November should be subdued and gloomy, in fact it's quite beautiful. As I told Don, "October is brilliant. November glows." Here are some photos as proof.

In an otherwise cloudy sky...

...a last shaft of sunlight escaped just as the sun set, illuminating a row of trees on the hillside opposite.

The changing color of blackberry leaves contribute to this late-autumn glow.

The leaves transition to yellow and red.

On a distant hillside, where blackberries have taken over vast swathes of land, the leaves are red.

Wild roses also contribute to November's glow.

The rose hips are abundant this year.

Like blackberries, wild roses can take over whole fields.

Water drops amidst the brambles.

Where pine needles meet mossy granite.

The weeping willow in our yard had some bright yellow leaves.

They turned even brighter when the sun came out.

I'm doing some late-season garden cleanup, including trimming back the strawberry runners.

The strawberry leaves, too, contribute to November's glow.

A bit of sunlight broke through the clouds while I was raking leaves.

The sun made the leaves glow.

It made Mr. Darcy glow as well.

This time of year, the leaves have dropped from the wild apple trees, but in many cases the apples are still on the branches.

A sun halo, which by some accounts predicts rain or snow. Accurate (for rain) in this case.

And those are some of the colors of November. A blessed Thanksgiving to all.

Fall foliage

After two months of lovely progression, all the trees in our yard have finally finished dropping their leaves.

The process starts in mid-September, when the honey locust leaves start carpeting the path through the yard.

By this point, the oaks starts showing just a wee bit of color.

But October – ah, that's the glorious month. By the first, things are really ramping up.

Every leaf becomes a thing of beauty.

It helps to have sunny days during this month, as it makes things positively sparkle.

You see, this is why I have an almost unhealthy obsession with the trees in our yard. After decades of seeing little but coniferous trees (stately and beautiful), deciduous trees – especially those that change color – fill me with giddy and childish glee. God bless whoever planted these beauties in our yard.

Early-morning sunshine through one of the oaks and the honey locust.

This time of year, the sun seems to "glow" through the leaves more prominently, making even green leaves look magical.

The yard looks very picturesque this time of year.

By the end of October, the whole trees are fully ablaze.

The colors are so bright and rich, they almost seem artificial.

And then...

...they start to fall.

Leaves gather along fence lines.

Mr. Darcy starts to blend in.

This is the view from the garden. Half the oak has dropped its leaves, half is still in full foliage.

If it seems as if I'm a bit obsessed with our oak trees this time of year ... well, guilty as charged.

Here's Maggie, framed by some branches.

By mid-November, the trees were (mostly) bare, and it was time to get raking. 

This is usually a relaxed, multi-day process, depending on weather and my work schedule. Since not all the leaves had dropped from one of the oaks...

...I focused on the portion of the yard where the trees were mostly bare.

Even raking, the leaves are lovely.

I got about half the yard raked, then paused over Thanksgiving weekend. This gave the willow trees a chance to drop everything (whomp!) on the lawn, which meant essentially I had to start raking all over again. Rookie mistake.

Preponderance of willow leaves on the left and oak leaves on the right.

Although it was 39F on the day I finished up, I worked up enough heat to discard my jacket and scarf.

A final push to get everything done before dark.

The leaf container is pretty full, but that's okay. Everything will compress down and start decomposing over the winter, which means it can be used in the garden in the spring.

Here's Darcy, with a clean yard behind him.

I still have to rake the side yard, but that's a task for another day.