That Leaf Thing

A friend recently emailed me a photo of the spectacularly red tomato sauce he was making, with fresh basil leaves floating here and there in the middle of it. He added that he had heard that Hilary and I were up north "gazing at leaves."

Of course, there is almost always something worthwhile to be gazing at "up north" and in many other places: vistas, birds, landforms, lichens, clouds. An island of mature sumac can be stunning, not only for the color but also for the way it drapes itself handsomely across the hillside. An unexpected show of winterberry, or a spectacular toad trying to scale a rock shelf. Even the slant and intensity of light differs markedly from hour to hour, from day to day.  

On the other hand, at this time of year the birds are gone and the changing leaves do draw our attention. But it starts early—let's say in mid-September, when the sarsaparilla plants begin to turn in sizable numbers. Hilary and I were up on the North Shore hiking up the Caribou River in early morning light when we came upon this shady grove.

It's always exciting when the vibrant reds appear, especially when they arrive early and can display themselves against the still intense surrounding greens. Here's a view along the Namekagon River north of Trego in northern Wisconsin later in the month.

The next day we caught sight of some great flashes of red looking down on the St. Louis River from the north bank, flaming in stark contrast to the pale purple crown vetch right in front of us. 

And the following afternoon, hiking down to Wolf Creek Falls in Banning State Park, the variations in color were very fine.

We made a slight detour, traveling sections of the Old Military Road and the Old Ferry Road to reach Wild River State Park, where we watched a woman pull a half-decent  catfish out of the St. Croix and also admired the leaves.

The coup de grace was a trip to Itasca State Park with friends for a day of cycling and exploring. With the sunlight shining in across the lake from the west, the leaves along the road were remarkable. The green was gone, but the yellows and oranges were iridescent. 

  Yet there were plenty of other things to admire as well, for example, the light on a patch of lichen on a log, 

Or a family of trumpeter swans who had eaten every water lily in the bay.

The variations are endless. And welcome.