Last Sunday my husband and I went for a drive in the local mountains. I had my trusty camera in hand and he had his fishing gear primed and ready to use when the moment moved him. Together we journeyed through back roads and winding trails in our trusty ‘ole grandpa truck (green 1997 Dodge ram). Often peeking over dizzying mountain roads (why is the passenger side is always facing the edge) in search of beautiful fall colors.Anxious to find autumn’s glorious rusty reds, golden hues and brightly colored leaves.
We made a few new friends
and a few that simply turned their backs on us.
fishing was good and plenty were caught and released
But, nature’s canvas was muted. Colors were pale and the mountainsides had more brown than rusty reds.
What’s going on? I asked, where is the beauty of autumn? My wonderful husband shrugged and said, “To dry babe”. Simple as that, to dry! What? We’re in the mountains and the first day of fall was the 22nd of September. Didn’t Mother Nature get the memo? But then on our way home, right there in our area, I found this! So the mountains may not know it’s autumn but our neighborhoods sure do.